


All I Want for Christmas is You (To Leave)

by hecateandhoney (LiveLoveLikeMe)



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: Cabin Fic, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Fluff, ww2018winterfluffevent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-09-05 21:13:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16818568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveLoveLikeMe/pseuds/hecateandhoney
Summary: Hecate's hands have been tied-- she's just going to have to accept that she'll be spending her holidays in a peaceful cabin alone.  There have been worse things proposed, and she's managed to sneak out some paperwork, so all in all it's not a total travesty.  Unfortunately, as has become increasingly usual in Hecate's life, there's a Hubble-sized disaster here to ruin the day.Part of the Worst Witch Winter Fluff Event 2018  Mumbroom, Julie/Hecate





	1. Day Two: Lights

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I've decided to do something a little chaotic for this lovely event, which I'm very excited about. You'll notice as the days go on, I'll be posting this all as three separate stories. I've divided the prompts into three groups and formed them into three different stories-- but of course, they're all scattered about throughout the month. Because they're all different ships, you'll notice this same explanation at the start of each one. I just didn't want anyone to feel completely lost by what will undoubtedly look like a very scattered arrangement.
> 
> And a small disclaimer, I will try to post one a day, but I'll be out of town for about a week and might fall a bit behind at some point this month. I have every intention of catching up on them if that happens.
> 
> Now, without further ado, enjoy my fluffy holiday fun!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: The plot of this may seem familiar, as I was heavily inspired for the start of it by a Hallmark movie I watched a few weeks ago. Full credit to them for the extremely fanfic trope idea XD

Two: Lights

Hecate wasn’t one to take time off from Cackle’s. There were protection spells, certainly, but none she felt were as strong a deterrent as her own presence within the walls, and besides, where would she go if she did leave? She travelled twice annually—once on a peaceful week of potions ingredient collecting in the forests and once for the yearly Potions for the Pragmatic conference, where she would present her latest findings and feel satisfied that she’d contributed to the growing of the field for another year.

This year, however, the Cackle’s staff had determined she needed some sort of penalty for her hard work. They called it a _gift_ of course, but Hecate could only see it as a nuisance. What were they thinking, renting her a cabin for the holidays? She’d smuggled out as much work as she could, but alas, they were determined to make her suffer with a week of relaxation. 

It was too far too transfer, so she flew primly on her broomstick with a modest bag of essentials hanging down below, and Morgana perched behind her. The air was cold and threatened to send a shiver down her spine, but Hecate refused to give into it, instead pulling her cloak just a little bit tighter around her shoulders. Once or twice she offered Morgana the warmth of it, but her familiar was seemingly just as stubborn, and sat perfectly still as though unaffected beneath her warm fur.

After a few hours of this, she saw the signs of the little town below and lowered herself to the ground. The cabins were, tragically, non-magically owned, so she relied upon her protective spells to keep her broom and Morgana hidden while she went to the rental office building to check in.

Immediately upon entering, Hecate wanted to turn back and flee to Cackle’s, cold air be damned. To call the cramped little office chaos would be a drastic understatement. There were people shouting and singing and running about, yet none seemed at all inclined to offer her any form of assistance. She scowled and pushed her way towards the counter near the wall, where a very frazzled little old man stood rushing back and forth with a big smile on his face.

“Pardon me, Sir,” Hecate said sharply, trying to draw his attention. It was no use, though, as the bustle drowned her out. She hated using magic around the non-magical. Not least because it was generally forbidden, with a series of questionable loopholes. The moment seemed drastic enough, however, when a burly man dressed in flannel bumped into her and nearly sent Hecate sprawling across the counter. She pointed subtly at her throat, murmured an amplifying spell, and spoke again. 

“Pardon me, Sir!” This time the man—and half the store—jumped to attention. 

“Oh, sorry Ma’am, didn’t see ya there. Can I help with something?” he said meekly, blushing as though embarrassed to be caught as he scurried closer.

“I would like to check into my cabin, if it’s not too much trouble.” The later part was said with a bite of annoyance, but she smiled anyways. Perhaps if she was polite, she’d get out faster.

Or perhaps not.

“We’re getting ready for the annual town gingerbread house competition, ya see, and me shop’s the designated meeting point for it,” he explained, though she was quite certain she hadn’t asked. “It’s the day after tomorrow—you won’t want to miss it if you’re still around. People go all out for it, see.”

“My cabin?” Hecate cleared her throat. She’d rather bury herself in the snow than come anywhere near this chaos.

“Oh, right, sorry. Uhh, what was your name again?”

“Hardbroom.”

“Let’s see… H…. H… Would that be Heckitt?”

She flinched at the mispronunciation. “ _Hecate_ Hardbroom, yes.”

He nodded as though that had been what he’d said—it was certainly not—but she held her tongue once more, hoping to get her key and flee the gingerbread madness as soon as possible.

“Right right. Is the rest of your party here?” He craned his neck around, as if he thought he might spot anyone in the sweaty, dense crowd of the store. She frowned.

“It is just I staying in the cabin, Mister…”

“Call me Gerald!” He exclaimed, like they were friends. “But oh, all right, let me just see then.”

He squinted at his computer, tinkering around and pressing buttons. Hecate suspected he wasn’t exactly great at working it, considering the puzzled look on his face. “Okay right, you’re in cabin twelve. Let me just get the key and I’ll show you on the map how to get there. You’ve got a car?”

“Something like that.”

It took longer than Hecate would have liked to get the key and directions, and she desperately needed to relieve herself after such a long flight, but she was frantic to get out of there and to her supposedly peaceful cabin. She had been suspicious that a vacation could hardly be as relaxing as Ada claimed, and it seemed she was already to be proven right, but no matter. She was presently here, and it was paid for—returning to Cackle’s would be rude. Soon enough she was back in the air, following the roads from above. 

It was just beginning to get dark out, but she could see enough to spot the cabin, which was helped by the sight of the bright lights filtering out through the windows.

“Odd that they would leave it lit up, but I suppose we can’t expect too much from this disaster of a town. Perhaps we should just be pleased it’s still standing,” Hecate joked to Morgana.

She was so tired by the time she landed on the porch, Hecate didn’t bother looking around outside. It was getting harder to see by the minute, anyways. She could save that until morning, set herself a nice fire, have dinner, and take an early night. 

She inserted her key, surprised when it twisted open a little too easily, almost as if it was already open. But that was impossible, even these people wouldn’t be so careless, and she admitted to herself that she didn’t really know how locks worked in the non-magical world as well as she ought to. It was probably nothing.

Hecate pushed open the door and smiled at the warmth. In addition to the lights being on, there was already a fire roaring to life in the fireplace, and for a moment she tricked herself into believing she could smell the most delicious stew cooking. Morgana rushed around her feet and took off to explore, already intent on making herself at home, and Hecate couldn’t blame her.

As much as she’d resisted, there was something magically relaxing about the cabin. The heavy pine smell and wooden paneling was beautiful in contrast to the large glass windows looking out at the trees quickly covering with snow, and the fire warmed it in just the right place. There was a bookshelf, no doubt filled with some frivolous novels Ada would have loved—but she’d packed her own potions books to read anyways. All in all, Hecate began to think that this might not have been the worst idea.

It might even be an enjoyable week.

“Mum, how long until dinner’s ready?”

Hecate blanched. She was hallucinating. The voice of her nightmares was filtering through this cabin of insanity, and she would never escape it. She should call a healer? Or an exorcist?

But even as she turned, she knew it wasn’t all in her head. Mildred Hubble had just come skidding into the room, looking all too much like a Niffler caught in the act of a grand theft.

“Mildred Hubble, what are you doing in my cabin?” she barked, rounding on the girl who had obviously broken in to play some sort of cruel prank.

“I… uh…”

“What was that, Millie love?” another voice called. Both heads turned towards the kitchen, and out walked Julie Hubble, spoon in hand and a question on her face. “Miss Hardbroom? I know you like to keep them on their toes, but isn’t it a bit much to show up during the holidays for a pop quiz?”

Hecate felt her blood rising and closed her eyes, steeling herself with a deep breath. There were two Hubbles in her cabin—and the elder one was doubly infuriating. Maybe when she opened her eyes, they would be gone. She pried one up and peeked out, but no, they still remained.

Just wonderful.

“I am not here to administer a _pop quiz_ ,” Hecate seethed. “This is _my_ cabin.”

“That can’t be,” Julie said, frowning. “We’ve rented it for Christmas. You must’ve made a mistake.”

“Is this not cabin twelve?” Hecate asked, already knowing perfectly well it was.

“It is,” Julie agreed with a sigh. 

“Is Miss Hardbroom staying with us?” Mildred asked, not without some measure of strange excitement.

“Absolutely not!” Hecate answered sharply. She hoped this would end soon; she still really needed the restroom.

“Oi, everyone calm down, I’m sure we’ll get it sorted,” Julie huffed. Still holding the spoon, she tossed back a heap of bouncing curls and began rummaging through her purse with her free hand. “Our reservation is in here somewhere…”

While she searched, Hecate snapped her fingers and procured her own. She was still standing in the entryway holding her bag, looking for all the world as a guest, and that would not do. The Hubbles needed to leave her cabin, not the other way around. Promptly she set her bag down, hung her traveling cloak, and made her way over to Julie. The blonde woman was still rummaging through her bag, bent over with a look of concentration on her face and a lip between her teeth that Hecate forced herself not to focus on. Frustrated, she waved a hand and summoned Julie’s form from the bag herself, holding it out to her with a raised brow.

“All right, Miss Bossy, I was getting it.” But still she took the form and held it up. “Yep, see, it says right here. Cabin twelve.” Hecate looked and frowned, then held her own form up beside it.

“It appears we’ve been double booked. I shouldn’t be surprised, given the travesty of an attempt at organization that man was running in town.”

“Gerald was doing his best, it’s not his fault the gingerbread house contest is tomorrow,” Mildred piped up, only quieting again when Hecate shot her a warning look.

“Busy or not, there was no excuse for booking us together in the first place,” Hecate pointed out with a sigh. “I suppose you two will simply have to leave.”

“Excuse me? We were here first, remember,” Julie countered, hands still full of papers and spoons going to her hips.

“The dates on the forms make it quite clear that my reservation was booked a week before yours,” Hecate pointed out.

Julie sighed in exasperation. “Fine, clearly we can’t settle this ourselves. We’ll just have to drive into town and see if one of us can be moved to another cabin.”

“Finally, an idea worth hearing from a Hubble.”

“Oi, watch it. You may be Miss High and Mighty over at the school, but in my cabin we show some respect.”

“I believe you mean _my_ cabin, but very well. Let’s just get this over with so we may all get back to our peace and quiet.” Hecate waved a hand and her travel coat reacquainted itself with her shoulders.

“Millie, here, stir the stew while we’re gone. Shouldn’t take too long to sort this out,” Julie said, handing the girl the spoon and kissing her on the brow. Hecate wasn’t sure it was the wisest idea to leave Mildred alone in charge of a hot stove, considering what she’d seen her do to a hot cauldron, but it had been a very long day indeed, and she didn’t feel like arguing any further.

“Yes, Mum.”

Hecate cleared her throat.

“Mildred, Morgana is somewhere around here, no doubt hiding from the chaos. If you wouldn’t mind putting out a bowl of water for her—it has been a long flight.” She felt awkward asking Mildred Hubble for help, and even more so when she practically beamed at the request.

“Of course, Miss Hardbroom. We brought Tabby and have some of his food, if you think she’s hungry,” Mildred offered.

“That would be agreeable,” she said with a sharp nod turning towards the door. 

“You said flight, I take it that means you didn’t bring a car?” Julie asked, putting her own coat on far too slowly for Hecate’s taste.

“Merlin, no.” She was scandalized at the thought.

“Fine, wouldn’t want you crashing into a tree in the dark. Come on, better ride with me.”

“I’m not certain that’s necessary…”

“Don’t worry, Miss Hardbroom, Mum’s a good driver, you’ll be fine,” Mildred said, as though her opinion on the matter would at all be of comfort. “And I’m sure they’ll sort it all out.”

_Relaxing vacation, indeed_ , Hecate thought with a huff of frustration as she followed Julie Hubble out to her horrific rolling machine.

At least she’d soon be alone in her cabin and able to put this all behind her.


	2. Five: Baking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all your support of this story so far! I'm so enjoying it.

Five: Baking

“Unbelievable. I find it difficult to accept that _all_ of the cabins have been rented out for the holidays,” Hecate grumbled as they stalked back through the door an hour later, neither looking very pleased at the turn of events.

Julie scoffed. “You saw that crowd. Not as hard to believe as you’d like to tell yourself. It’s a busy time of year, and mistakes happen.”

Mildred skidded back into the room, her bright smile falling at the sight of the two grumpy adults. “Do we have to leave?”

“Now now, nothing’s been decided yet,” Julie said carefully, looking up at Hecate with pleading eyes.

While not intimately familiar with the family, Hecate wasn’t entirely a stranger to the Hubbles’ situation. She knew this cabin must have been rather expensive for her co-workers, and didn’t pretend to guess it was a stretch for the little family as well. It was likely quite a treat, judging by Mildred’s excitement, and if she went on with this as planned, _she_ would be the one ruining the girl’s Christmas, or whatever it was they celebrated here. 

Hecate was hardly pleasant most days, but she wasn’t a complete monster.

“If I leave now, I should be able to make it back to Cackle’s before it’s too late in the night,” Hecate said with a sigh. She was dreading the cold flight home, back to the disappointed faces of her friends and colleagues, who would undoubtedly blame her for this somehow. “You may stay, Mildred.”

“Thank you, Miss Hardbroom,” Julie said gratefully. “You’ve saved Christmas.”

“Yes, thank you!” Mildred said, “But why does anyone have to leave?”

“Millie, we couldn’t ask Miss Hardbroom to give up her plans to spend the holidays with us,” Julie said, right as Hecate added, “I couldn’t impose myself upon your festivities.”

Mildred sighed dramatically, spoon in hand in the spitting image of her mother from earlier in the day, and frowned up at them. 

“But I thought it was the season of giving and being together?” she countered.

“That doesn’t mean you have to be together with _everyone,_ ” Julie replied.

Mildred continued on as though she hadn’t heard a word, this time turning on Hecate. “And I’m still so far behind on witch stuff, it would be great to have someone around who could teach me about Yule.”

“Mildred, I’m sure Miss Hardbroom has plans with someone to rearrange and doesn’t want us trying to butt in,” Julie said with a note of finality.

Hecate swallowed thickly. She could see in Mildred’s eyes that she didn’t buy a second of that—rightfully, considering it was heavily untrue. Her only plans were with herself, as they were every year, and she was more than enough content with that. Luckily, Mildred knew enough to keep her mouth shut if she did question it, and instead sighed with the true air of one about to pull out their last card.

“However,” Julie added suddenly, “It’s far too late for anyone to fly all the way back to Cackle’s from here. I think we’ll have to insist you spend the night at least.”

It took Hecate a moment to realize Julie had to be referring to her, and she blinked rapidly against her own surprise. “I couldn’t—“

“Oh, please, Miss Hardbroom!” Mildred begged. “You said yourself that broomstick safety is important.”

“And you wouldn’t want to show Millie a bad example, so that settles it,” Julie said before she could think up a response, clasping her hands together. “You’re staying the night. Now there’s only two bedrooms, so Millie will help you put your bag in one of the rooms, and I’ll go bunk with her.”

“That will not be necessary, there is a perfectly fine couch right here,” Hecate pointed out. So much for this being her cabin, already she was relegated to the imposer once more, and she couldn’t wait for sunrise to make her escape. She wasn’t entirely sure how she’d lost the argument against Julie Hubble—if she didn’t know better, she’d have suspected magic—but it seemed the woman, as usual, knew just how to frazzle her enough into submission.

“Nonsense, we don’t mind, do we, love?”

“Nope!” Mildred chirped, looking excited again now that everyone was staying for the night. Hecate couldn’t imagine why. She’d have done anything to escape spending time with one of her teachers at that age—especially one as hard on her as she was on Mildred. She was hesitant when Mildred went over for her bag, and thought about transferring it to save them all the trouble, but thought better of it and let her leave with it so the two adults could have a moment alone.

“Are you quite certain this is what you want? I can still leave, Ms. Hubble, and I’ll be perfectly fine,” Hecate insisted. She wasn’t entirely confident that would be the case, considering the winds she’d felt picking up during their trip into town, but she’d make it work.

“I meant what I said. Now don’t you worry, you’ll still be off in plenty of time for your plans, but Millie thinks you’re staying, and she’ll be crushed if you change your mind.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Hecate quipped.

“You’re kidding? Why do you think she’s been bouncing out of her socks since you arrived? You’re her favorite teacher.”

Hecate sputtered at the admission, nearly choking on the words she couldn’t find, which was a good thing as Mildred chose that moment to return.

“Everything okay?” she asked skeptically.

Hecate looked to Julie for help, suddenly quite unsure what to do with herself. _Favorite teacher?_ She wasn’t certain she’d ever been anyone’s favorite anything. 

“Just fine, Millie love, I was only asking Miss Hardbroom to help me out in the kitchen. Dinner should be almost ready, but we’re a bit behind schedule now,” Julie explained hurriedly.

“Of course, Ms. Hubble. I’d be happy to assist, if you don’t mind my joining you.”

“Enough of that Ms. Hubble, now. We’re staying together, you might as well call me Julie,” she said, already walking off into the connecting kitchen. 

Hecate followed, “Very well, I suppose it would be acceptable for you to call me Hecate whilst we’re here.”

“Me too?” Mildred asked, trailing behind them.

“No,” both women said in synch. There was a moment of pause where the awkwardness of what they’d done settled over them, before both cracked with smiles.

She’d be fine, it was just one night. Perhaps, though she’d never admit it, the company wouldn’t even be so bad.

Hecate was most definitely wrong. Dinner had been infuriatingly delicious. Julie knew her way around the kitchen—unfortunately less so around how to share the space. They’d bumped heads about nearly everything all through the remainder of the prep and the meal, every topic seeming to drive one of them up the wall about something, until Mildred had groaned and stomped away. Most were wise enough to step down from a fight with Hecate, but not Julie Hubble.

If anything, she seemed to thrive on them.

After that, she’d more or less relegated herself to sitting in front of the fire and leaving the Hubbles to their space in the kitchen for whatever winter activity they were excitedly chattering about embarking upon. After all, these expense reports wouldn’t write themselves. This worked for approximately an hour, until Julie passed through towards the bedrooms without a word.

At first she thought nothing of it, but then there was a very Mildred-esque crash and far too familiar “oops” murmured from the kitchen. She watched to see if Julie would return to tend to the disaster, but she apparently hadn’t heard the commotion. With a sigh, Hecate set her papers aside and transferred into the kitchen.

“Mildred Hubble, what have you done now?” she asked, not at all surprised to see the girl standing in the middle of the floor, surrounded by a shattered bowl of what had once been some sort of dough. She sighed. “Do not move. I don’t wish for you to cut yourself.”

“Yes, Miss Hardbroom,” she said nervously.

With a simple wave, the bowl and its former contents were vanished. 

Mildred let out the breath she’d been holding and smiled. “Thank you. Wasn’t sure how I was going to get out of that one, yet.”

“Next time I expect you to vanish the mess yourself,” Hecate said, uncomfortable with the thanks being thrust upon her. She felt awkward now, like she was invading on some little family activity despite Julie’s continued absence. 

“What were you attempting to make?” she asked, fiddling with the time piece around her neck. Would it be rude to simply leave the room? Mildred was still looking at her.

“Gingerbread! Mum and I decided to make a house to enter into the contest. I guess we’ll have to start over now,” she said with a heavy sigh of defeat.

Hecate hummed and without a thought, began to search the cupboards for another bowl. “This should do,” she said, more to herself than anyone, and set it on the counter. She looked at the ingredients arranged beside it and frowned. “Is this the recipe you’re following?”

“Mum found it online.”

Hecate scoffed.

“These ratios are all incorrect. If you bake this it will be far too soft to hold up as any sort of house.” Without waiting to be asked, Hecate began measuring her own ingredients into the newly retrieved bowl.

“You can bake?” Mildred asked, leaning over from the side to peer into the bowl.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Hecate quipped dryly.

“I’m not, it’s just, Miss Tapioca always cooks at Cackle’s and…”

“Relax, Mildred,” Hecate began, nearly laughing, “As it happens, potions and baking are not terribly far off. It is all well and fine to read a list of instructions and produce a replica of what’s been handed to you on the page, but when you do, you’re taking a risk that the person writing it down has been correct. In my experience, they are often _not._ When you have the knowledge of what the different ingredients actually do, you’re able to adjust and even create your own.”

“I can make my own potions?” Mildred asked a little too excitedly.

“Certainly _not_ if you ever wish to set foot in my potions lab again. Although I seem to recall one or two disruptions from your cauldron that were definitely not written down in any of my books. When you learn some _control_ , and a general understanding of plants and herbs, then perhaps you’ll be able to do so intentionally. A _very_ long time from now,” Hecate added sharply. 

She wasn’t sure why Mildred was smiling at this—she’d hardly complimented the girl’s abilities. Julie’s words from before echoed in her head as she spelled the spoon to stir the stiff dough for them. _Favorite teacher_.

“Miss Hardbroom?”

“Hmm?” she asked, pulled from her swirling thoughts.

“Calling you Miss Hardbroom makes this feel an awful lot like school.” Mildred shuffled her feet like she was gearing up to something, and Hecate had a good guess what.

“Mildred, I’m not sure it would be appropriate—“

“No, I wasn’t suggesting I should call you _that._ I think it would be just as weird.”

“Oh?” She could tell there was more Mildred was trying to work herself up into saying. “And?”

“Well, since everyone calls you it already, and it might feel a little less weird…”

“Yes?”

“CanIjustcallyouHB?”

“Pardon?”

“Just until tomorrow, can’t I call you HB?”

Hecate froze. As much as she acted in opposition to the nickname, she wasn’t entirely as against it as everyone thought. It felt nice to be given a friendly one for once, one that wasn’t in any way she could fathom a way to ridicule her. So she pretended not to hear when students said it a little too loud, or first years slipped up when addressing her, but giving the name her permission was another thing entirely.

However, she was intruding on their personal time, like it or not, and it wouldn’t hurt to make a tiny allowance outside school. Hecate sighed rather gravely and peered down at Mildred’s hopeful expression. “I shall allow it. But _only_ here, do you understand? You shall return to addressing me as Miss Hardbroom the moment we are back at Cackle’s.”

“Cackle’s? I hope that’s not a detention I hear talk of,” Julie said, walking cautiously into the kitchen and peering at them. “It is the _break_ remember.”

It was a sharp jab, and Hecate flinched in spite of herself. She’d only been trying to help, to be kind.

Now that she was back, Hecate disliked the feeling of her scrutiny upon them, disliked the assumption that she could have only been here to dole out punishments. There was something about Julie’s judgment that felt harsher than the rest, and she wanted to flee back to the safety of her paperwork.

“That should be finished. Just chill it for at least three hours before you bake it,” Hecate mumbled before transferring out of the room, leaving the Hubbles to their festivities, leaving the gathering she’d intruded upon. 

It was late when she caught sight of either Hubble again. 

The paperwork seemed unending, but she thrived upon it, thrived upon the familiarity and the structure and the rules. She knew exactly how to treat it, how to fill it out and make it work. 

Mildred tiredly dragged herself through the room, mumbling a, “Night, HB,” as she passed by, clearly crashing from the excitement of the day.

“Goodnight, Mildred,” Hecate murmured back, smiling secretly to herself at the nickname. She looked at the time and startled—nearly midnight. She would do well to follow Mildred’s example if she had any hope of leaving early the next morning. Morgana was already curled at her feet fast asleep, and she hated to disturb the familiar, so moved to transfer her along with the papers down the hall to the bedroom.

Before she could, Julie walked in, two steaming mugs in hand and a peculiar look on her face. “Hecate, you’re still up, good,” she said not unkindly. Hecate was waiting for the insult to follow. Instead Julie handed her one of the mugs and took a seat in the chair across from her.

“The fire’s nice,” she said conversationally. Hecate just continued to stare, looking between her and the mug, trying to connect the dots that wouldn’t fit. Finally, after moments of tense silence, Julie sighed and set down her tea.

“Right, I’ll just come out with it then. I owe you an apology.”

Hecate blinked in surprise. That she had not expected.

“Mildred told me how you helped her with the gingerbread—that was kind of you, and you didn’t have to do that.”

“I apologize for intruding on your family time, I only heard a crash and—“ Julie cut off her words.

“You were more than welcome to help, that’s not what I’m trying to say. I only meant, I came in and accused you of trying to give out a detention on break, and I shouldn’t have. Millie about bit my head off for it when she told me what you were actually doing.”

Hecate couldn’t help the smile at that. 

“Ah, she smiles!” Julie cheered quietly. “I like the sight of that.”

Hecate blushed so deeply she thought her toes must be pink.

“Your apology is not necessary, but I accept it,” she said tightly, trying to pull herself back together.

“I think it was necessary, all the same. Now, unless you plan on heading off to bed, drink that tea. It’s good—made the blend myself,” Julie said proudly, taking a big sip of her own. 

Hecate obeyed, finding it just the right amount of spicy to counteract all the sweet. It was… drinkable.

“I’m impressed, you know your blending properties rather well. If only you’d pass that gift along to Mildred,” she quipped.

Hecate had thought it a funny joke—something she tried now and again, usually without notice, but enjoyed privately. She had thought, given the camaraderie happening, Julie might be a rare one to appreciate it. Instead, something shifted between them, and the gentle calming smile on the blonde’s face changed into something more akin to a scowl. 

“Right, well, I’ll leave you to it then,” Julie said, standing up and leaving without another word.

Alone again with her paperwork, Hecate couldn’t help noticing that suddenly, it felt a lot less comfortable.


	3. Day Eight: Decorating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! The trip took a lot more of my time and energy than expected, so I never was able to post as planned. I'll probably post another chapter of this later tonight so I can get all these ones I had written all caught up and get back to the current prompts asap. Thanks for your patience and your kind comments! I'm really very much enjoying this story and all the fun of writing it.

Eight: Decorating

After the confusing evening with Julie Hubble, Hecate was eager to get an early start. Better to escape before they were awake—it would be simpler that way. She had just begun to feel a little bit too much like she was a part of something the night before, until Julie’s abrupt exit anyways. Staying would only confuse matters for herself even further. It would be better to be home and enjoying her solitude as usual.

The plan was quickly silenced, however, as she looked out the window. Though the sun was only just beginning to rise, it was clear that nature had done her work during the night. Everything was covered in snow, even the air, and it showed no signs of slowing down.

She’d never be able to safely fly in that—wouldn’t even be able to see properly to chart her course.

She was trapped in a cabin with the Hubbles for at least another day.

Hecate showered and readied herself, taking her time to go about it before she had to face them out in the shared spaces. She felt awkward and intrusive, considered hiding out in her quaint little room, but Morgana was impatiently meowing for food.

Pulling herself as together as she could, dressed in one of her usual long black dresses and bun, Hecate transferred out to the kitchen with Morgana in her arms. Immediately the feline spotted Tabby and yowled, scratching her way out of Hecate’s arms and bolting out, the tabby cat hot on her tail. “Morgana!” Hecate cried in surprise.

She sighed and went about readying the cat’s breakfast anyways. The kitchen was quiet and empty—a strange sight after an evening spent with two of the chattiest human beings she had ever encountered. Apparently, they were not early risers like herself. Pity.

Hecate fed both felines—if they ever chose to reappear to eat it, that is—and looked about the kitchen. Despite the weather being outside her control, she still felt badly for the fact that she would be intruding upon them for another day. The Hubbles seemed to respond to food, so it couldn’t hurt to soften the blow. They had apparently come prepared for quite a bit of baking, so she settled on pancakes, finding the ingredients easily.

Julie was the first to shuffle in, still in her dressing gown and slippers, curls poking out wildly at different angles and eyes blearily blinking into the sunlight streaming through the windows. There was something rather adorable about her, Hecate thought, before berating herself for looking. Infuriating people weren’t allowed to be adorable.

“Coffee?” she mumbled.

“Yes, please.” Hecate continued flipping her pancakes while Julie moved around behind her to set up the coffee pot. They were quiet, ebbing and flowing around one another. Julie set a steaming mug beside her and leaned against the counter, already diving into her own.

“There enough of those pancakes to share?” she asked, beginning to come alive. 

Hecate’s brows furrowed in confusion. The stack on the plate beside her had to be nearly a foot tall. “Just how many pancakes are you presuming I was planning to eat?”

“Oi, hold onto your hat, I just didn’t want to _presume_ that you made them for me.”

Hecate sniffed and turned off the burner, setting her things to the side to wash in a minute. “I feel that I somehow offended you last night. I seem to have a habit of saying the wrong things around you, and if I hit a sensitive spot, I apologize,” she said tightly. “I was not trying to be offensive, but nevertheless, that doesn’t negate any—”

“All right, calm down,” Julie interrupted with a smile. “No need to get into it too much, I accept the apology. We both seem to say a lot of the wrong things around each other. Maybe that’s just the danger of two strong personalities together, or maybe we just have a natural clash between us, but I think we could both do to think a little more before we speak and take things a little less to heart when we feel offended, hmm?”

“Very well,” Hecate said, nodding. 

“And I say there’s no better peace offering than something to appease my sweet tooth before you leave,” Julie quipped, already looking for the syrup.

Hecate transferred it to her side and frowned.

“Leave?”

“I’m actually surprised you haven’t already fled for the hills,” Julie said, not seeming to realize the issue.

“Ms. Hubble. Julie, I mean. I don’t suppose you’ve looked outside?”

“No, the sun’s too bright before coffee. Why, is there—oh. That’s a lot of snow.”

“Indeed. Too much, I’m afraid, for anything even resembling a safe flying condition.” Hecate looked away for a plate of her own, wanting to distract herself with something other than what would surely be a look of pure disappointment on Julie’s face.

Instead, she was met by the sound of laughter. Confused, she turned back, seeing the blonde wiping away at a tear in the corner of her eye. 

“Is something humorous?”

“It’s just too perfect, really,” Julie said, calming herself down. “The coincidence I mean. First we somehow, of all people, end up double-booked for the same cabin. Then there’s a storm stopping you from leaving. It’s like the universe wants to tell us something.”

“That vacations are as dreadful an idea as I’d suspected they would be?” Hecate guessed, feeling a little playful in light of Julie’s laughter.

“Could be, but you know if this were a movie, I think it’d be telling us to fall in love.” Hecate’s eyes widened while Julie’s laughter only seemed to grow.

“That wouldn’t be so bad, HB would make a great second Mum,” Mildred teased, making both adults jump. When had she woken up? Julie coughed, choking on a too-big bite of pancake.

“Bloody hell, Millie! Don’t even joke like that,” Julie said, glaring as she pulled her breathing back under control.

“I wasn’t joking,” Mildred said with a nonchalant shrug. She was eyeing the pancakes giddily. Hecate, suddenly feeling quite hot and forgetting her appetite, set the plate she’d just finished preparing for herself down in front of the girl instead. 

“Even so, it’s not nice, and it’s not your business,” Julie chastised.

Hecate nodded her fervent agreement.

“Besides, I’m sure Miss Pentangle wouldn’t appreciate that,” Julie added with a wink.

“M-miss Pentangle?” Hecate frowned. Why should Pippa care if she had a dalliance with Julie Hubble? _Not_ that she was going to.

“Sorry, but it’s not like it was exactly a secret you two fancied each other,” Julie said around another bite of pancake. “These are delicious, by the way. Might not be so bad having you stuck here with us after all.”

“You’re staying?” Mildred exclaimed with a smile. 

Hecate’s head swam, and she was quite certain she was under attack.

“I’m, uh… the snow…”

“She’s snowed in, so we’ll just have to drag her into a Hubble Christmas whether she likes it or not,” Julie explained.

“That’s fine, the more the merrier, right Mum? You can help decorate the gingerbread house.” Mildred took a big bite of the pancakes and hummed with delight.

Hecate was still stuck on a very pink standstill. “Miss Pentangle and I do _not_ fancy each other. She’s engaged to be married!” Certainly as teenagers they had harbored all kinds of angst-ridden feelings, but that was decades ago.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Julie said with a sigh. “Are you okay?”

“Why should I not be?” Hecate blinked. 

“Mum’s single,” Mildred popped in, licking the syrup off her fork rather messily.

“Millie!”

“I strongly doubt your mother has any interest in witches,” Hecate added, feeling she should end this conversation finally before her head exploded.

“Says who?” Julie rounded on her, looking offended. “I’ve nothing against you lot. Unless you mean because you’re a _woman?_ ”

“Well, I… you have Mildred… I only…”

Julie cracked a smile. “Am just teasing you, Hecate. I like witches and women well enough, but calm your broomstick. I think we’ve joked a little too far, hmm?”

“Indeed.” 

“And Mildred, not a word of this conversation leaves this room, understood? I’m sure Hecate doesn’t want her personal business all over the school,” Julie ordered sternly.

“I won’t say anything, HB,” Mildred said, smiling sweetly.

Hecate wasn’t entirely sure _what_ had just happened, or what Mildred wouldn’t be saying anything about, but nodded in acceptance and took a seat to get some food for herself. 

“So about that gingerbread house…” Mildred began explaining her grand plans for it.

Somehow, much in the way she’d been lead in confusion through the conversation at breakfast, Hecate ended up roped into helping them decorate their gingerbread house.

She noted with a hint of pride, that it resembled a smaller version of Cackle’s, and tried to hold her tongue to avoid pointing out the discrepancies. Mildred always did show promise with her art.

Hecate had offered to stick everything together using a little magic, but Mildred insisted that was cheating, so instead she found herself sitting across from Julie, each holding a side of the roof in place while the frosting gluing it all together slowly dried.

“I’ll be right back, I’ve just had an idea!” Mildred exclaimed suddenly, leaving them both trapped, bent towards the center of the table to keep the castle balanced.

Julie groaned as soon as Mildred was gone.

“Sorry about that. I’ll have to have a talk with her, I think she’s taken our joking around at breakfast a little too seriously.”

“What do you mean?” Mildred was acting a bit odd, if she thought about it, but that wasn’t really all that out of the usual.

“I think she’s trying to parent trap us,” Julie whispered.

“Trying to what?” 

“You know, the movie, The Parent Trap?” Julie pressed.

Hecate frowned. “I’m afraid I’m unfamiliar.”

“Bollocks, you people have no idea what you’re missing. Right, so basically, the kids plot to set their parents up and make them fall in love.”

Hecate’s lips purse into a perfect, “Oh.”

“Oh, exactly.”

“Are you certain?”

“You of all people should know how Millie schemes,” Julie pointed out. “She’s left us bent over the table holding a roof together so we can’t leave even if we want to, and I’m not buying her argument that magic is cheating. Millie thinks of magic like another limb, and even before she knew she was using it, she put it in everything she did. No no, this is just a rouse to make us spend time together, mark my words.”

“You have a point, I will admit. Shall we stop her?”

“And miss out a chance to mess with her? No, I’ve a better idea. Let’s just wait and see what she does, and when the opportunity strikes us for revenge, we’ll get her good,” Julie schemed.

“My my, it seems you have a taste for punishment after all,” Hecate says with a grin cracking out across her face. “I’m listening.”

But before they could discuss it further, Mildred returned, a box of something held tightly in her hands. “I was thinking this might work for the roof tiles?”

Hecate cleared her throat meaningfully and leaned back, releasing the gingerbread roof with a little pulse of magic to keep it in place.

“That’ll look great, love!”


	4. Twelve: Remote Cabin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANOTHER UPDATE WOaH!? Haha. I'll be honest, this is one of the most enjoyable writing experiences I've ever had. I really just adore these two and their dynamic. Thank you all for your support!

Twelve: Remote Cabin/Inn

“Would you excuse me, I need to make a mirror call before it gets too late.” Hecate stood, ready to transfer to her room. The gingerbread Cackle’s was nearly complete.

“Oh, good idea, better let whoever you had plans with know about the weather delay.”

“Right. Uhm, yes, I’ll do that. Pardon me.”

She fled quickly, mind still reeling as something wouldn’t leave her alone. It did seem to be too much of a coincidence that she would be trapped with the Hubbles, of all people, alone in a secluded cabin for the holidays, and there was one person with a penchant for friendship traps that Hecate was all too familiar with.

In her experience, there were no coincidences. Only magic.

“Well met, Hecate. Having a nice time?” Ada greeted with a bubbly smile as she answered Hecate’s mirror call.

“Indeed. It was especially enjoyable to discover my rather odd gift.”

“Pardon?” Ada asked.

“The Hubbles,” Hecate bit out, quirking a daring brow at her friend.

“I’m not sure I’m following.”

“Julie and Mildred Hubble seem to have been double-booked for my cabin,” Hecate explained, watching Ada carefully.

“Oh dear, I hope you got it sorted out. That hardly sounds relaxing,” she added with a chuckle to herself. Hecate was less amused.

“Quite the contrary, there was nothing to be done about it. I intended to leave this morning, but I seem to be snowed in.”

“My, that is an interesting turn of things. I hope you brought a book.”

“Ada,” Hecate said, sighing. “I don’t believe in coincidences of this nature.”

“It does seem awfully strange,” she agreed solemnly. “But what else could it be?”

Hecate frowned. Ada sounded serious. “I had been hoping you could tell me.”

Ada looked at her strangely for a moment then gasped, reeling back slightly. “You don’t think I would have planned this to happen?”

“I’m less certain now, I’ll admit.”

“Hecate, dear, I can’t think of any reason anyone would wish to trap you and the Hubbles together, least of all myself. Unless…”

“Unless what?” Hecate asked, grasping on to anything that could make sense of this mess.

“Magic does have a strange way of working sometimes, when it feels certain situations require it. If there’s something you’re not telling me, perhaps that could explain it, but as it stands, I can’t imagine why even the magic would want to stick you all together.”

“I’m holding nothing back,” Hecate said, frustrated. “Magic doesn’t just do what it wants. We are magic and we have control.”

“Yes, dear, but I’m talking about very ancient magic. Surely you’ve heard stories as a child? The tale of Drusilla and Cleo, one day suddenly unable to leave their coven’s cave after a row, and no one could figure it out. They were the only ones unable to pass back over the threshold, and for years they lived side by side in the cave, bickering from sunrise to sunset. Then the burning times began, and they set aside their differences, determined to work together to help their friends, and do you remember what happened?”

“They were able to pass outside once more, and together they saved the coven,” Hecate recited with a frown. “But I hardly see what that has to do with any of this. The magic acted extremely because it knew they would need to combine forces to save everyone. There is no present danger—not that could be solved by any of us, at any rate. Julie isn’t even a witch.”

“Julie, hmm?” Ada giggled, making Hecate blush at the slip. “And at any rate, I wasn’t suggesting there was, and I don’t think you’re trapped exactly. You’re thinking too extremely about it, Hecate. I’m only saying, if the magic can do all that in dire circumstances, I imagine it’s perfectly able to take less drastic measures where it sees fit.”

“But why?”

Ada shrugs. “It’s only an idea. Maybe it is just a coincidence, if you’d rather believe that. But it couldn’t hurt to think about it. If the magic does want something to come from this, it would be a shame to miss out.”

Think on it, Hecate did. All through the rest of the day, she thought on it, until she felt stifled inside the walls. She needed air, needed to see that she could leave, the story still fresh in her mind.

“I’m going out for a walk,” she declared, already moving towards her cloak once they’d finished dinner. 

“Mum, you should go too!” Mildred said, perking up at the suggestion.

“Only your mother? Not you?” Hecate teased. She was beginning to see how very correct Julie was, and it was curious. She wasn’t entirely sure why Mildred should even want some sort of dalliance between them. Perhaps it was merely the romance of the season, or more darkly, some sort of gag—though she didn’t think Mildred would do something with bad intentions.

Bad results, almost certainly, but her intentions usually seemed to come from somewhere good.

“Mum mentioned wanting to go look around, but I need to stay here and… and work on my winter project!” she declared.

Hecate could see herself falling firmly into the trap. She highly doubted Mildred, who still had weeks left to work on what Hecate considered an unfortunately very mediocre amount of work to do, would truly be planning on starting it. However, she couldn’t very well say anything that would discourage her from it, considering she’d assigned it. She squinted at her knowingly.

“Very well, then I shall expect to see great progress when we have returned. Julie?” She turned to the other woman, holding open the door for her to come along. Julie only rolled her eyes at them both and huffed about putting on her boots and coat.

The walk was peaceful at first—something truly marvel considering her company. She hadn’t been entirely sure the other woman even knew how to cease speaking. It was almost disconcerting.

The sky was dark now, but there were lights around the house, and all the moonshine reflected right off the brilliant white of the snow. Hecate took a deep, refreshing breath of the air and sighed as it stung her lungs in the best way. She could smell the cold and the pine, and loathe as she was to admit Ada had been right, it truly was beautiful.

The heavy pine trees sunk under the weight of the still steadily falling snow pulling them down, clinging together. They couldn’t go very far in the blizzard, or stand it for very long, but it was calm enough for a walk near the cabin. Slowly, side by side, they trailed around the front and over to the back.

Hecate shivered.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, surprised to find herself breaking the silence. “Do you always come here?”

“First time,” Julie admitted. “We usually spend Christmas at me mum’s place, but Millie’s really trying to understand this whole Yule thing, so she really wanted to be out in nature. She asked if we could camp, but I said it was too cold for that, until I found out about this place. It’s nice, but expensive, whew!”

Hecate nodded. She hadn’t realized Mildred cared so much about Yule, and vowed to make more of an effort to teach her while she still remained trapped with them.

“Speaking of which, I hope you’ll let me take care of half of the fee, since they’ll be refunding mine given my initial forfeiture.”

“None of that, now. You were gracious to give it up to us,” Julie said, waving her off and looking at the sky.

“That may have been true, but it seems I’m destined to remain trapped here with you both, so it’s only fair.” She wasn’t entirely sure the gift would still stand under these circumstances, but she had savings that could cover it.

“I can’t argue with that, can I?” Julie said with a laugh. “But fine, only for the days you’re here, mind. Unless you want to stay. I think we’ve proven we can all get along, haven’t we?”

Hecate smiled to herself, looking over at the cabin. With all the lights on, and the little tendrils of smoke curling out of the chimney on the roof, it was so very inviting. “As far as cohabitation goes, there could certainly be worse choices.”

“Gee, thanks, I’m chuffed,” Julie teased. “But maybe you’ll even get lucky and the weather will clear up for you. You could always still have your company join us here, I’m sure we can all make room.”

Hecate cleared her throat awkwardly. “About that, Julie. It seems you may have made some presumptions that I have been less forceful in correcting than I admittedly should have been.”

“Oh?”

“There is no one else.”

“You were planning to spend the holidays alone this year? In a cabin by yourself?” Julie asked, sounding nearly scandalized.

Hecate felt uncomfortable going on, but swallowed thickly and looked away, forcing herself to lay out the rest of her humiliation. She’d never minded being alone before, and it was strange now to find she was so bothered by admitting it.

Had they already changed her so much in such a short span of time?

“I always spend the holidays alone. Don’t give me that piteous look,” she ordered, seeing Julie’s face fall. “It is my choice. This year, the staff at Cackle’s got it into their heads that I wasn’t truly taking enough of a break away from the school by staying on, and they banded together to bully me into a vacation in the woods. I’m sure that sounds pathetic to you, but even as a girl I spent most of my holidays remaining at school. It’s all I’ve ever known, and I enjoy the solitude.”

“I’m not here to pity you. If that’s what you like, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“But?” Hecate knew with Julie Hubble there would always be an addition.

“But… there’s no harm in changing it up a bit. Millie and I throw a pretty mean Christmas, if I do say so myself. I hope you’ll consider sticking around.”

“You’re only saying that so I’ll have to pay more of the bill,” Hecate quipped dryly. It was another attempt at a joke, and she worried for a moment that Julie would take it the wrong way again, that she’d mess up whatever strange camaraderie had built between them.

She looked over nervously, surprised to find Julie’s mouth wide open, the wind blowing a few of her curls into her mouth before she could stop it. “Was that a joke from Hecate Hardbroom?” she gasped.

“Perhaps,” Hecate said, smirking.

“Ahh, Miss Funny now, are we? I’m not sure that stick up your arse will be pleased.”

“I’ve had it removed for the holidays,” Hecate quipped back.

Julie actually laughed this time. “All right, you, slow down before you hurt yourself.”

Silence fell between them, comfortable this time, and Hecate shivered at the cold again. “We should probably head back inside. Merlin knows what Mildred’s actually up to in there.”

“We still need to plan our revenge. A romantic walk in the snow under the moon? What next, mistletoe?” she laughed. “I don’t know where this girl gets her ideas.”

“Does it… bother you?” Hecate asked tentatively. They continued circling the rest of the way around. Hecate spied something rather large up against the house under a cover, buried beneath the snow, and made a note to investigate it in the daylight.

“Does what bother me?”

“Mildred’s notion of… well, of us. I’m afraid I can’t made sense of it, but I would hate to think that my presence here is making an uncomfortable situation for you.”

Julie scoffed. “Don’t be silly, I don’t mind, unless it’s bothering you of course. I’m used to Millie and her ‘notions’ as you’ve put it. She’s always trying to fix me up with someone.”

“I see,” Hecate said, not really seeing at all why she would be selected. “Unsuccessfully I take it?”

“Well, I am still single,” Julie joked. “But it’s hard, you know, being a working single mother. I’ve dated a bit, but Millie comes first. She has to come first. And with all this new witch stuff, it just hasn’t really fit into my life. I can’t very well explain to some woman why my daughter’s writing up a potion for her winter project, now can I?”

“I imagine that must be difficult,” Hecate replied carefully. She hadn’t really considered before the impact their world would have made on a woman like Julie Hubble. Never able to join in fully, yet not able to fully live in her own while it’s present.

“It’s an adjustment, but I’ll figure it out. What about you?”

“Me?” Hecate choked. What about her? 

“Your dating life, I mean. I gather I was wrong about Pentangle, but is there anyone else? A witch perhaps?” Julie pressed. Hecate was half-offended by the question, but Julie’s smile glittered as the light bounced off it, and she felt herself weakening. 

“No, there’s no one,” she said simply.

“Is that all I’m gonna get after I spilled my guts?” she asked with a mock pout.

“Yes,” Hecate said simply, with a note of finality, and they both cracked smiles.

“All right, I don’t know about you, but I need some hot chocolate to warm me up. Let’s go see what Mildred’s plotting now.”

And with that, they headed back inside their cabin.


	5. Snowball Fight and Yule

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bright Blessings! I hope you all had a wonderful Yule. I tried to get this done sooner, but I was doing my own yuletide things, so it's a few hours late. Thank you so much for all the love and support for this story! I just love them so much, writing them makes me endlessly happy.

Sixteen: Snowball fight/Building Snow People & castles or scenes

AND

Twenty One: Yule/Winter Solstice

As Hecate looked out the window the next morning, it was with a wave of relief that she preferred not to linger on for too long. The snow was still falling just as steadily. There would be no flight back to Cackle’s anytime soon.

Much like the day before, though with slightly less trepidation after a rather surprisingly pleasant evening with the Hubbles, Hecate dressed, gathered Morgana, and transferred out to the kitchen.

Unlike the day before, Julie was slightly awake under the same pile of unruly curls, standing at the stove with a steaming mug of coffee in one hand and a spatula in the other. She looked so calm, humming slightly to herself, right at home in their little cabin. It was strangely comforting to watch as she wrinkled her nose and took another sip of coffee, huffing as her hair got in the way. 

Hecate felt like she was somehow intruding on a private moment, like she didn’t have a right to witness Julie in this unguarded state, and tried to back out of the kitchen. Morgana had other ideas, and yowled at the sight of Tabby, scrambling to be let down.

“Oi, do you have to sneak around like that?” Julie exclaimed, hand wielding the spatula over her heart. “If I didn’t know better I’d think you’re out to give me a heart attack. No wonder you’ve got all the first years shaking on their brooms.”

“I apologize, I was only trying not to intrude.” Hecate frowned.

“Nonsense, we’ve been over this, you’re not intruding on anyone. Unless you pop in on me in the shower, then we might have a bit of a problem,” Julie said with a throaty laugh.

Hecate could feel her cheeks heating up at the very thought of Julie in the shower, water running over her freckled shoulders, curls smoothed down her back, humming while spreading soap across her— _stop._

“Is there coffee?” Hecate asked hurriedly. She knew there was, Julie was drinking it right in front of her after all, but it was the first thought that came to mind, and she desperately clung to it.

“Over in the pot,” Julie said, quirking a brow. “Are you all right? You seem a bit flushed.” 

“I-I’m fine.” 

Before Hecate knew what was happening, Julie had removed her pan of eggs from the burner, set down her cup and spatula, and strutted over to her side with an arm outstretched. “Do you mind?” Julie asked expectantly. Hecate wasn’t sure what she was seeking permission for, but she looked so determined, and she was too close for Hecate to forget her thoughts of the shower. She felt her face grow impossibly hotter and found herself nodding only to give herself an excuse to look away.

She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but a warm hand on her forehead had not been it. Julie’s hand was surprisingly soft and practiced, almost a little soothing—or she thought it might have been, had she been given any sort of idea what Julie was doing with it.

“I beg your pardon?” Hecate asked, stiffening. “W-what are you doing?”

Julie rolled her eyes. “Checking you for a temperature. I’m a nurse, remember? It’s my job.”

Her hand was still in place, and Hecate blinked in confusion. She wasn’t entirely sure she had known that was the other woman’s job, but her breath on Hecate’s cheek muddled her memory. “I see. And?”

Julie met her eyes and studied her. They were too close, Hecate’s head was swimming. Where was that coffee again? She stepped back, immediately missing the warmth but sucking in the air she hadn’t even meant to deny her lungs. Mildred’s mischief was getting to her.

Julie sighed and dropped her hand from where it hung still suspended in the air between them. “And you’re right, you’re fine. Just a bit embarrassed, I’d say,” she teased.

“I couldn’t possibly guess as to what you’re referring.”

Had Julie somehow read her thoughts? Had she been so obvious in her momentary lapse of judgment that the other woman had guessed? She clenched her fists at her side, fighting the desire to transfer away.

“So I suppose it’s just a coincidence you turned red as a tomato the second I mentioned myself in the shower, hmm?”

“I, uhm… I…” Hecate blinked, exposed.

“Oh calm down, no one minds if you’re a prude. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, it was only meant to be a joke. In the future I’ll try to stick to clothed references only.” So she’d thought the comment bothered Hecate, rather than her own mind’s betrayal. A true relief, and Hecate grasped at it.

“I am not a prude! I merely have a sense of decorum.”

Julie scoffed. “That’s for sure. Do you know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen what you actually look like?”

Hecate frowned. “I do not waste magic on frivolous glamour spells.”

Julie waved her off and walked over to the coffee pot Hecate still hadn’t touched, pouring a cup for her and topping off her own.

“Not what I meant. It’s just, you’re always put together, morning to night. I’m sat here in my pajamas, hair unbrushed, looking like I properly rolled out of bed fifteen minutes ago. But you? Makeup done, hair perfect, ridiculously tight dress in place—and all that before coffee. I don’t know if I should be impressed at the effort so early or apologetic for making you that uncomfortable on your vacation.”

“I’m not uncomfortable, it is merely my routine,” Hecate explained awkwardly. Truth be told, she did wonder at the appeal of Julie’s more laid-back style of mornings, and perhaps there was something to what she had said. Was she uncomfortable? At school she often left her quarters in her dressing gown without a second thought. After all, what did it matter if some students knew she slept? Perhaps it would even encourage them to leave their disasters for the day so she could sleep more. But here she tiptoed around and did herself up like a guest out to impress her host.

Because on some level, she did still feel like a guest, no matter how many times Julie tried to reassure her otherwise.

She was a guest to their family festivities, and a guest to their time, and no matter how much they invited her to join in, she wasn’t sure she knew how to be anything more.

Perhaps it was the Yuletide spirit, but for once, Hecate felt determined to try and change that.

“If you say so,” Julie said with a shrug. “Now eat up, we’ve got a long morning ahead of us.”

“Why particularly?” Hecate obediently began to plate herself some of the eggs and set about making toast for the pair of them.

“That weather’s wreaking havoc on more than just your travel plans. The town’s cancelled their gingerbread house contest to keep people off the roads. Apparently two different families got stuck trying to come in last night. It’s a good thing we got here when we did.”

Hecate frowned. “Mildred worked very hard on her entry.”

“No need to remind me. And after the mistletoe incident last night, I’m desperate to get her out of this cabin for a while to focus on something else.”

Hecate coughed to hide her smirk and took a sip of coffee. 

Indeed, Mildred had been plotting against them during their moonlight stroll, and they had returned to a rather beautifully enchanted drawing of mistletoe hanging above the door. She really needed to work on her subtly, but Hecate had found her revenge in the form of an hour long lecture on the proper uses of mistletoe, both historically for the holidays as well as in potions. It had been truly enlightening, and hopefully more than a little off-putting, even if Mildred had attentively listened in spite of her disappointment at the lack of any yuletide kissing.

But it had reminded her of just how little Mildred really did know of their world.

“Julie,” she began tentatively. “I know it may not be what you were hoping to spend your time on here, however…” Hecate trailed off, suddenly nervous.

“At this point I’ll take anything. What’d you have in mind?”

She cleared her throat. “It’s just that, today happens to be the Winter Solstice, otherwise known as Yule. It is ultimately up to you what you wish Mildred to participate in when away from Cackle’s, however…”

“Is it Yule already? Bright blessings!” Julie exclaimed happily. “By all means, whatever you’re about to suggest, I’m sure Millie will love it. I don’t want her missing out on any of her witching culture just because I can’t teach it to her.”

“Very well. We can do a few traditional activities, perhaps have a small ceremony with the yule log tonight. I think she will find it all very educational,” Hecate said with a definitive nod.

“I think she’ll find it exciting more than anything, but I’m sure you’re used to reining her in. I’ll just set myself up with some knitting and let you two get on with it.”

“Get on with what?” Mildred asked, pausing to yawn as she shuffled into the kitchen, looking all too much like her mother.

“Happy Solstice, Mildred,” Hecate greeted formally. 

“Oh, erm, Happy Solstice, HB!” she exclaimed, eyes brightening. “Is that what you meant? Are we going to celebrate Yule?”

Julie chuckled and walked over with a plate for Mildred, setting it in front of her on the table. “Bad news, Millie love. The contest had to be cancelled because of the weather.”

Mildred pouted into her eggs. “After all our hard work? That hardly seems fair.”

“Don’t worry, Miss Hardbroom has been kind enough to invite you to join her for Yule, so you can spend today learning all about that instead.”

“Really?” Mildred looked over at Hecate, nearly vibrating with energy all of a sudden. Then she looked back to her mother. “What about you?”

Hecate had been wondering the same thing, and followed Mildred’s gaze to her mother with an expectant one of her own.

“Oh, well I’m not sure Yule is really meant for people like me,” Julie explained, looking up to Hecate for help.

“Nonsense,” she echoed the woman’s word from earlier. “Many people celebrate the solstice without any particular set of powers. You’ll be more than able to join in should you wish,” she added, suddenly worrying perhaps Julie didn’t actually want to take part in Yule.

“Well in that case, count me in,” Julie said, brightening.

“What do we do first? Light the yule log?”

“Ahh, so you know a little something already,” Hecate said with a nod of approval towards Mildred. “We could, however, as we need to go outdoors to retrieve a proper log for our uses this year anyways, I thought we might begin with some wassailing.”

“Weaseling?”

_“Wassailing_ ,” Hecate corrected sharply.

“Oh, okay, wassailing,” Mildred said slowly, sounding it out to herself before nodding, satisfied she had it right. “What is that again?”

Wassailing, while an old tradition, was one of Hecate’s favorite parts of Yule. She loved the moment of honoring nature, the connection she felt to the trees, the thanks it allowed her to give and the chance to ask them for a bountiful harvest in the next year. While Mildred took to it easily after a few minutes of confusion, she could tell Julie was less than thrilled by the activity. 

“You really do this every year?” she asked, bending down to watch as Mildred poured a bit of the liquid concoction onto the next tree and repeated the chant Hecate had taught her. “I thought for sure you meant singing.”

“That is a more popularized use of the word, but traditionally a wassail drink was created and poured over trees in an orchard every solstice as a way to awaken and protect them for a more bountiful harvest. Obviously we are improvising a bit here, as we’ve nothing but a forest to work with, and none of these trees will bear fruit in the coming months, but the idea is the same.” 

“And if the adults want to have some fun with the leftovers after someone’s gone to bed?”

Hecate smirked knowingly. “That too is highly encouraged.”

“Ahh, I’m beginning to like it better already. Come on, Millie, that pine tree over here looks like it could use a good wake up.”

While Mildred and Julie continued walking tree to tree to deliver the wassail, Hecate took her time to pause at a particular tree and rested her hand against it for a moment of quiet contemplation. As the end of the wheel of the year, the Winter Solstice always brought up a lot of emotions as she reflected on the year ending and the new one empty and waiting before her. 

It certainly hadn’t been an easy one. She’d thought so many times she’d be out of her life, out of her job, out of her family—Ada, even out of her magic in that frozen magical wasteland. Yet here she stood, everything so very different than it had looked before. In a way, she was thankful for the disruption to her plans, thankful that everything looked so far removed from her normal.

Her own changes stood out less drastically against it all, and she could look at herself without feeling a rush of panic. The real newness was in this cabin and these trees. It was in this strangely domestic company.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to let the new light in this year. Perhaps it wouldn’t enter alone, and maybe for once she wouldn’t even mind that.

Maybe for once it would come with some welcome surprises.

Hecate jolted as a loud thump sounded on the trunk above her head. She looked sharply above herself and frowned at the out of place patch of snow crumpled against the trunk a few feet above. It was soon followed by another, this time making contact with her arm, and Hecate turned with her eyes blazing to find the culprit.

Both Mildred and Julie were standing and looking at her sheepishly, several feet apart from one another. It could just as easily have been either of them from the looks of it, and Hecate wasn’t willing to put it past either Hubble. She would have to retaliate against them both to truly cover her bases.

“Would anyone like to admit responsibility for that snowball?” she asked dangerously, eyes narrowing to slits.

“What snowball?” Mildred asked with the same horrible act she used to try and avoid getting into trouble for her potions explosions.

“I didn’t see any snowball,” Julie added just as poorly.

“Very well, if that’s how you wish to play it.” Hecate did something she often reserved for moments by herself, or moments in the privacy of her friends. She allowed her lips to curl upward at the sides into something akin to a smile. 

Except far from friendly, it was terrifying. Too sweet. Too untrustworthy.

With a wriggle of her fingertips, Hecate began to form the snow behind her unsuspecting victims, who still watched her nervously like deer caught in the headlights, waiting for something to happen. She packed the snow into two massive balls the size of their heads—loosely, as she didn’t wish to knock them unconscious—and levitated the snowballs behind them.

“Any last words?” she sneered.

Mildred clenched her eyes shut, knowing without really knowing that something was coming, but Julie—sweet, naively unmagical Julie—only laughed. 

With one final twitch of her hand, the snowballs dumped themselves over the Hubbles’ heads, releasing two sets of squeals in surprise.

Julie sputtered, wiping the snow away from her eyes with a gloved hand and gasping at the cold.

“Oh, it’s on, Hardbroom.”

“If you insist,” Hecate grinned, gearing up for her next attack. Before she could, another snowball hit her in the chest. She gasped and looked over at Mildred, who she’d been so sure she’d taken out with her first hit, already holding up another and ready to go.

“May the best witch—or woman—win.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else up for some wassailing with Hecate?


	6. Eighteen: Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I took so long, but I also wrote way more than I should have considering the month is almost over and I have two fics to finish, but here you have it. Thank you SO MUCH for all the love on this story. I just adore them so much, and after that trailer!? AHh, my Mumbroom heart. Expect a nice lengthy mumbroom fic coming in the new year.

Eighteen: Stars

The snowball fight was brutal and long—or at least as long as they could handle in the cold, all shivering by the end of it, wassailing long forgotten. “All right, you lot, time to warm up. Mandatory hot chocolate and some lunch,” Julie ordered with a nod, already shepherding Mildred towards the cabin. She shot Hecate a look when she didn’t move to follow.

“I’ll join you shortly, I just need to take care of something first,” she declared.

Julie shrugged. “Suit yourself, just don’t take too long. I think I’ve seen enough frozen witches for one lifetime—if you really want a hug you only need to ask.”

Hecate rolled her eyes. “I think I’ll pass.” She turned towards the woods and trudged away before they could stop her. Mildred deserved a true Yule, and there was one grand piece missing.

There had been a fallen tree not far off, and she found it again quickly, using magic to slice it. Doing it by hand would have been preferable, but she could hardly feel her fingers anymore, and didn’t trust herself not to slip with a saw. It would hardly be the picture of magical safety she wanted to pass along.

She quickly grabbed her log and used a spell to dry it from all the snow, carrying it inside to feel the true weight of the fallen tree’s sacrifice. It would serve them well for their needs, and she was grateful.

“Is that a log?” Mildred asked as she entered through the front door. The girl was stationed on a chair, sipping her hot chocolate and staring as though she’d been sitting there waiting for Hecate’s return.

“A yule log,” Hecate corrected. “We shall need to prepare it—I’ll teach you how. Then we can light it.”

Mildred wrinkled her nose. “So it’s just a fire? We bought some firewood on the way here—you didn’t have to go to the woods for it.”

“Indeed not!” Hecate reeled, scandalized by the words. But she saw how Mildred’s face fell, and maybe it was the holiday spirit, or too much cabin fever, but she let the lecture that threatened to follow drop from her tongue. With a heavy sigh, Hecate set her log on the ground by the hearth and took a seat on the couch across from Mildred, hands on her knees as she awkwardly thought up how to best explain their traditions.

“The yule log cannot be purchased. It is considered unlucky to do so—a witch must either be gifted the log or collect it from her own property. I’ll admit this forest is a bit of a stretch as we don’t own it, but a rental contract should be sufficient to appease our superstitions I believe,” she winked. 

“Oh, that’s kind of nice. It makes it more special,” Mildred said attentively.

“Yes, I suppose it does,” Hecate said, smiling slightly.

“So if it’s not just a fire, what is the point of it?”

“The winter solstice is the longest night of the year—the time when we reflect upon the past year, say goodbye to the night, and welcome in the light as the days begin to once again grow longer. The log is lit until morning to symbolize the coming sun, and some old traditions leave it to smolder for twelve nights. We shall prepare the log—cover it in cider or ale and some flour, maybe decorate it a little. Then tonight we light it using a piece left over from last year’s.”

Hecate thought her explanation had been succinct yet satisfactory, but frowned when she realize Mildred only looked upset.

“Is something the matter?” she asked, clearing her throat uncomfortably. What was keeping Julie so long?

Mildred looked down at her lap and fidgeted—a look Hecate was all too familiar with seeing, only now she couldn’t fathom why.

“Mildred?” she prodded sternly.

Mildred huffed and shook her head. “It’s just that I’m never going to be caught up on everything. Sometimes I wonder why I even try. Even knowing I’m a real witch now, I’m still behind and it feels like there’s endless stuff to learn.”

“I see,” Hecate sniffed, thinking. She twisted her fingers around her timepiece and looked over at the log sitting on the floor before them. It was so easy to take for granted the privilege she’d been given in learning all their world’s traditions growing up. What she had lacked in kindness and warmth, she’d been given in lectures and rules.

In many ways, Mildred’s life had been quite an inversion of her own.

“I realize I can be hard on you sometimes. Magic without proper control can be dangerous for everyone, and if I seem harsh, it is only out of a desire to get you to understand the seriousness that can arise from a careless mistake.”

“I know, Miss Hardbroom, but—“

“However. There are many things outside of the classroom that are just as important to learn as part of your integration into our world, and if I have in any way caused you to feel ashamed for not knowing them, I apologize. No one expects you to learn everything overnight. I had hoped your friends would be more helpful in explaining our traditions…” Hecate frowned. Truthfully, it had never occurred to her to help Mildred learn the culture when she had peers of her own she’d probably much rather speak with about it all. Now she wondered if that had been a mistake to place that duty on children.

“Oh, no, they do help,” Mildred rushed to reassure. “Really. And I’m sure they’d help more if I asked, it’s just embarrassing sometimes to be the witch always out of the loop. I don’t want to bore everyone with constant questions. So sometimes I just nod along.”

“I see,” Hecate said, biting her lower lip. “I hope… I want… I mean to say…” Hecate sighed. She wasn’t cut out for this conversation. “I would like you to know that in the future, if you do have questions you don’t wish to ask your friends, my office hours extend to all matters of your education, Mildred, and I think learning about our world certainly qualifies.”

Mildred beamed. “Really? Thanks, HB.”

“Now,” Hecate clasped her hands together and stood, feeling she’d gotten too warm. “Where is your mother? We have a yule log to prepare.”

“I think she’s doing something in the kitchen.”

“Well then, let us go and find her so we may begin. You may carry the log if you can manage it,” she instructed, remembering her own desire to help with the retrieval of it as a child.

Her own family had deemed it too “dirty” for her delicate hands, forbidding Hecate to do much more than sit primly before it in silence. 

She wanted Mildred’s first Yule memory to be one that left her with respect for the holiday, not distance and fear.

“I can!”

Mildred cheerily set her cocoa down, and with more care than she’d ever seen the girl exert before, she scooped up the log with both hands and led the way, carrying it proudly. 

“Mum, we’ve got a yule log!” she called.

“Oh have we? That’s fun,” Julie said with a smile as they walked into the kitchen.

They found her standing over the stove, swirling around something in a pot. It smelled divine, and Hecate couldn’t help sniffing the air appreciatively.

“I heated up some of that wassail you made for the adults. Didn’t take you for a cocoa drinker,” she said, winking at Hecate.

Something stirred strangely in Hecate at the gesture, and she sharply looked down to check the time. “You would be correct, thank you,” she said, stilted.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Mildred eyeing her curiously, and cleared her throat. No more of _that_ , thank you very much. Julie handed her a steaming mug before taking a sip of her own.

“Whew, that is strong! More than one glass of that and you’ll be carrying me off to bed,” Julie exclaimed.

She tried her best to resist it, but Hecate felt the heat rise in her cheeks nevertheless. She was blushing, she knew it, even without looking in a mirror. She was blushing and both Hubbles could see it clearly happening, though she was loathe to look too closely at their expressions. Damn Mildred and her scheming. Damn Ada and her magical suggestions.

Damn the magic if it was indeed trapping her here with this family, warping her judgment through exposure to their yuletide glee. 

“Oi, both of you, get your heads out of the gutter!” Julie scolded. Though Hecate noted it was said rather shakily, as though she herself had been embarrassed by the implications of her words. “I meant _my_ bed. Just me. Because I won’t be able to walk there without crashing into a wall. Honestly.”

But the moment—and their subsequent reactions—couldn’t be taken back, and Mildred for once looked entirely uncomfortable, and Hecate wished the snow would either cease and bid her leave or swallow her up whole. She was not thinking of Julie Hubble this way. Absolutely not, she forbid it.

She liked being alone. Sure, sometimes it was a little dreary, but she had a routine, and she had order, and she had none of the nonsense she’d been put through the past few days. She had her colleagues and her charges to focus on, and that had always been enough.

Damn this woman with her wildly curly hair and sparkling smile that disguised her bitter tongue for making Hecate think anything else.

“Right. Well, there are a few hours yet until dark, so we’ve time to light the yule log. I have papers to attend, excuse me.” And with that she transferred to her room. 

Yet as she pulled out her papers, intent on filling them out to calm herself down, all she could do was relive that moment in the kitchen.

Hecate set her pen aside and sighed. It was no use, she’d never be able to distract herself until she worked it out of her system. She would make a list, that’s it. A list of all the reasons having feelings for Julie Hubble would be a horrible idea.

Hecate summoned a clean sheet of paper from her belongings and picked up the pen again, starting off the list in her typical cramped but elegant writing. 

_Julie Hubble_

_1\. She’s maddening._

That should have been the extent of the list. She had never met a woman as difficult to get along with as Julie Hubble. She insisted on always being right, always fighting Hecate on everything she could. Or at least, she had, before they’d come to some sort of brokered peace agreement in their shared space. Now the sparring seemed almost friendly, almost fun. It was easy to forget that beneath it all was the most infuriating personality Hecate had ever met. And on top of that, she was the mother of the most equally infuriating child.

Which brought her to the next item on her list:

_2\. Student’s parent._

It would be entirely unprofessional to even consider seeing the parent of one of her charges. She might be accused of giving the girl unfair advantages, or on the flip side, make her feel uncomfortable in school should things not work out. It was a disaster waiting to happen.

_3\. Mildred._

Julie had said she was Mildred’s favorite teacher, but it could hardly be the truth. She had probably been trying to lighten the atmosphere between them. She thought back to her prior conversation with the girl, how she had been embarrassed by her lack of knowledge, yet had never thought to come to her, had even seemed surprised by the offer of help. She had never wished to be that teacher, the one instilling fear. The role had simply fallen upon her, and given the danger of mistakes in her classroom, she hadn’t rejected it when it proved to have a positive effect. But she’d thought, somewhere buried a little deeply, that the older students knew better. That they knew she cared, and that’s why she was hard on them, and that she just wanted to see them succeed.

Yet Mildred hadn’t even thought to ask her for help on a minor issue of celebratory methods.

So how could she ever be a favorite teacher, let alone a parental figure?

Which brought her to:

_4\. Unlovable._

It was harsh, she knew that, and perhaps she didn’t truly believe it to be the case. Ada loved her, and Pippa, and it had taken years to accept, but she knew that to be true now. Her list did not extend to them, however, and in the case of Julie she felt sure it would be true. She would never be the kind of woman for which Julie Hubble would garner feelings. Julie was lively and adventurous, friendly and spunky. She knew nothing better than family and home and love. She was so many beautiful and infuriating things that were utterly lost on Hecate. Falling for her was a pointless means to pain, for it would never end in reciprocation.

And that was that, the end of her list. It seemed short, looking at it all written out. Only four tiny reasons a dalliance with Julie would never work. But she lifted the paper in her hands and sighed at the weight of them. They weren’t easily fixable problems, except perhaps the Mildred issue. It wasn’t too late to repair her approach to the girl, and she found she cared more than she’d have liked to admit before. 

An hour later, Hecate emerged. It was time to light the yule log.

She found the Hubbles sitting in front of an unlit fire, almost as if awaiting some kind of punishment, and felt a wave of guilt hit her yet again. She hadn’t meant for her flight to cause them distress.

“Mildred Hubble,” she spoke with a curl.

Mildred jolted upright from where she’d been working on her project and looked at her with wide eyes.

“Yes, Miss Hardbroom?” she swallowed.

“We have a yule log to light,” she said, smiling lightly as the girl visibly relaxed. 

“I left it in the kitchen, and I found the cider and flour, but I wasn’t sure what else you meant by decorating it,” she chattered, already standing and moving towards the kitchen, expecting Hecate to follow.

Julie had as of yet said nothing—a rare feat—but she was watching them cautiously from her seat on the couch.

“Well? Are you coming?” Hecate asked expectantly.

“Oh, right, yup.” Julie hopped up, wiping her hands on her jeans, though Hecate didn’t think they had anything on them. 

They were awkward, unsure what to say to one another, and Hecate knew as much as she loathed the idea, they would have to speak later about what had happened in the kitchen. Her reaction had been too much, too visible to be brushed off.

For now, though, they followed Mildred into the kitchen.

“Julie, if you wouldn’t mind holding the log over the sink. I believe that would be the easiest place to do this—it can get a little messy.”

“You got it.” She did her job diligently while Hecate and Mildred leaned over, first dousing it in cider, then pouring on the flour and finishing it off with little sprigs of holly Hecate had brought with her for the occasion. She tried to focus on the task, on teaching Mildred what they were doing and why, rather than how nice Julie’s perfume smelled. 

It was jasmine and a hint of something else—perhaps vanilla?

Not that Hecate was paying attention to it.

They finished by moving the log back over to the fireplace, sighing with the effort.

“Now we light it?” Mildred asked. “Mum, where are the matches?” 

“No need for those,” Hecate quipped, ushering Mildred to sit on the ground in front of the hearth. “We light a yule log with a bit of the one left from the year before. It is a tradition.”

“What do we light that with?”

“Magic,” Hecate whispered, eyes twinkling. She pulled out from her pocket the carefully cut piece of charred wood and held it out to Mildred. “Would you care to do the honors?”

“Me?” Her eyes widened comically. “But I can’t make fire yet.”

Hecate pursed her lips in thought. She could teach Mildred the spell, but they were inside a very wooden house, and she wasn’t entirely confident that would be the wisest decision. She was definitely getting too soft on the girl to have even considered it, she realized, smirking to herself. “That is all very well, I can light the stick, but you may hold it and ignite the log if you wish.”

“Thank you,” Mildred said softly, eyes wide on the piece of wood as she finally took it from Hecate’s outstretched hand. “This is really from your log last year?”

“Indeed, and now it will start you on your own.”

“Be careful Millie,” Julie jutted in, ever the mother, though Hecate reflected her sentiments.

Mildred nodded, and she knew with the great respect Mildred was showing the process that she would be, that she wouldn’t want to mess this up. Hecate made sure she was holding the wood steadily and lit the tip of it, taking care to direct Mildred towards their yule log and then pulling her hand away as the flame started to catch on the cider-soaked wood.

“It’s beautiful,” Mildred whispered in awe.

“Indeed.” Hecate closed her eyes and began to say her yearly thanks and reflections, before lapsing into a contemplative silence. She couldn’t resist looking every now and then, smiling to herself at the look of intense concentration and happiness on Mildred’s face. 

She deserved to have the fullness of a childhood Hecate had been denied—the best of both parts. And she was glad in a way she had helped make that happen for her today. Sighing to herself, Hecate sat back and took in the fire and the room. She looked over at Julie, surprised to see the other woman still seated on the couch behind them, watching the life she’d never been given with a look of awe on her face. With a sharp nod of her head, Hecate beckoned her closer to join them on the floor. 

“Mildred,” she said nervously. “There is one more Yule tradition that I think you’ll find rather familiar. We sometimes give gifts.” Hecate summoned a small wrapped package from her room and held it out.

“Oh, but I don’t have anything for you,” she said, frowning.

Hecate shook her head. “I did not expect anything, that is not why I brought it up. As it stands, I wasn’t expecting to spend Yule with anyone, so I wasn’t exactly prepared, however, I would like you to have this.”

With great care, Mildred unfolded the edges of the wrapping paper and gingerly removed it to reveal an old, aged book. It was clothbound and showed all the signs of having been read far too many times. She watched as Mildred opened the front cover and traced her finger lightly over the written “H. Hardbroom” fading on the inside. 

“Yuletide Tales of Spirits with Spirit,” Julie read over Mildred’s shoulder. “What’s this?”

“It was a book given to me as a young girl. By Miss Pentangle, actually. It is a frivolous collection of many of the stories children in our world are brought up on every holiday season,” Hecate sniffed. “I thought perhaps it might aid you in your education.”

Mildred was silent, staring at it so intently Hecate couldn’t decide if she’d made a mistake or not.

“It looks very loved,” Julie pointed out. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I think it deserves to be appreciated again.” She hesitated, not sure if she should go on and reveal herself any further. It was clear they could tell she’d been very fond of the book, and she could leave it at that. But Mildred had still not uttered a single sound, and she wanted to be sure it was all right. “Even the most traditionally raised young witches are sometimes left with a gap in their education, Mildred, and there is no shame in admitting that. This book was given to me after I admitted to not having been taught any of the stories by my own parents, who deemed them a waste of valuable reflective time. I think it only right that it continues on its educational purpose, and would be honored for you to have it.”

Finally Mildred looked up at her, eyes wide and face slowly spreading into a cheshire grin. “Thank you, HB.” Hecate sighed with relief. 

They rose from the floor, Hecate’s knees smarting with the effort and Mildred bouncing from foot to foot, clutching the book to her chest.

“Miss Hardbroom?”

“Yes, Mildred?” She expected another question about yuletide traditions, and whatever it was, Mildred seemed to be working herself up to it very seriously, so she waited. Even Julie seemed curious.

“Can I…”

“Can you what?”

“Can I hug you?” Mildred squeaked out.

“I, uhm, if you… I suppose?” Hecate tensed, confused by the question, but not exactly put off by it. She had been hugged by students before, usually before they graduated and she sent them off into the world, but she’d never been asked and had to consider it. Mildred was sweet that way, she supposed, never wanting to trample someone’s boundaries on purpose. So she nodded to reaffirm the uncertainty of her words, and Mildred launched herself at her, wrapping her little arms around her waist and squeezing her like a stuffed toy.

Weirdly, Hecate found herself laughing. It was awkward, and she had no idea what to do with her arms that stuck out at her sides like twigs, but soon Julie started laughing along.

“Thank you,” Mildred mumbled again, muffled this time. She pulled away at last and immediately tore her gaze back down to the book, already flipping carefully through the old pages.

“All right, you, dinner’s nearly ready. You can read that later tonight—go set the table,” Julie ordered.

With a great heavy sigh of distress, Mildred managed to release her newly treasured possession onto the room’s bookshelf for safety, and she shuffled out to the kitchen.

Hours later, the fire still roared on in the hearth, and their stomachs were full of warm dinner. Mildred had fallen asleep on the couch, curled around the book she’d read until her eyes couldn’t stay open a second longer. Hecate found herself strangely warmed by the sight. 

She’d never had children. She’d always considered her charges her duty, her own to mother for most of the year, in her way. Hers to prepare for the world.

But there was something appealing about this newly domestic feeling that she hadn’t considered before. It wasn’t hers, but she was borrowing it in a sense, so she could pretend for just a moment as she watched Julie put a blanket quietly over the slumbering girl’s shoulders, that she was allowed to be part of it.

Feeling too hot in the fire and the unexpected rush of her emotions, Hecate slipped away, leaving her cloak behind and heading out the back door onto the little patio area. She walked to the railing and crossed her arms. It was colder than she’d expected, and she regretted leaving the cloak behind.

But the air was peaceful, and here so far from any light pollution, the stars were more brilliant than ever. Hecate sighed and watched them, getting lost in their stories and formations. On this, the longest night, they felt enigmatic.

“Forget something?” a gentle voice said, startling Hecate from her mind. 

She turned and found Julie behind her, holding out the cloak like a peace offering.

“Hmm, thank you,” Hecate whispered. It felt wrong to speak loudly when the night was so still around them. She gratefully took the cloak and wrapped it around herself, shivering into the warmth.

“I think I owe you an apology,” Julie said, sidling up beside her and mirroring her gaze at the stars.

“That’s Andromeda,” Hecate explained, pointing somewhere just a little lower than the center of the sky above them. “Her mother bragged about her beauty, and as punishment she was chained naked to a rock to be sacrificed to the sea monster Cetus.”

“That’s horrible.”

“Hmm,” Hecate hummed in agreement. “As a child, I always preferred that part of the story, for then Perseus shows up and saves her, and I hated the idea of a women always being saved by men.”

Julie snorted. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

“But as I got older, I learned where her name comes from. The Greek word andromédē, meaning ruler of men. And it is I who needs to apologize.”

Hecate sighed, turning away from the sky and looking shamefully over at the other woman. “I should not have reacted so strongly.”

“I shouldn’t have said it in the first place.”

“But you did,” Hecate pointed out needlessly.

Julie breathed sharply. “I did. And you blushed harder than a schoolgirl at the thought of me in bed.”

“I did.”

A stalemate fell between them. Did it mean something that she had reacted so visibly? Hecate had a whole list of reasons why it shouldn’t, yet their silence seemed to speak for them both that it did.


	7. Twenty Two: Hot Tub

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update that's way too long for what it was meant to be. I started these fluff event fics fully intending to write about 1k for each prompt, but this story just hasn't wanted to listen to that, even though it's now January and two days away from the show returning XD But I guess I just can't rush them, haha. They won't listen when I try. Hope you guys enjoy this one! We're now three chapters from the end, ahh!
> 
> WARNING: There is a very brief and vague mention of past abuse in this chapter.

Twenty Two: Hot Tub

Hecate began pacing around, the stillness of the quiet between them becoming too much. She needed to escape it, or find a way to break it. Continuing the conversation suddenly felt dangerous, like they both stood on the precipice of revealing too much.

As she paced, she noticed again the strange block over at the corner of the deck.

“What is this?” Hecate couldn’t stop herself from asking. 

Julie turned, looking yanked from her own thoughts, and smiled.

“I’d wondered about that, didn’t you read the cabin listing?” she asked, already making her way over to it and shoving the piled up snow away with her arms. She shook her head, “no I suppose you wouldn’t have, since you didn’t book it,” she continued, though Hecate was still watching her in silent confusion. “Anyways, we have a hot tub, and I believe this is it.” She grunted, pushing the last of the snow off and onto the ground.

“What is a hot tub?” Hecate asked in spite of herself. She stepped closer and peered over Julie’s shoulder as she began messing around with it.

“Don’t witches have hot tubs? Well, that’s a right shame. It’s like a hot bathtub with jets, only usually outside, and you’re not in it for a scrubbing.”

Hecate wrinkled her nose. “Then what is the point?”

“To relax! Something you could do with, come to think of it. Let’s see…” She tinkered around with a few things, lifting and dropping a heavy cover, fiddling with some buttons, and suddenly:

Hecate jumped as it roared to life like a beast, latching onto the first sturdy thing she could find to keep from slipping down onto the deck. Unfortunately, this meant she was clutching Julie’s arm.

_Most_ unfortunately, Julie noticed.

Hecate held her breath as the blonde slowly looked down at her hand, then moved up to meet her eyes. They were so close, Hecate could see the freckles dotting her cheeks and nose, and she could feel the warm puff of each exhale that escaped through Julie’s parted lips. She swallowed deeply and froze, not removing her hand nor stepping away.

“We should try it,” Julie whispered.

Try it. Yes, trying it suddenly didn’t sound so horrible. Her list be damned, Julie’s lips were so close to her own, it would take so little effort to try it. Hecate hummed in agreement.

“Great, then go get changed!” Julie chirped, stepping back out of Hecate’s grip.

“Get… changed?” Hecate sputtered. What exactly were they trying? “I’m not sure…”

“The hot tub, silly. What did you think I meant? Get into your swimsuit so we can try out the hot tub. Millie’s sound asleep on the couch in there, and it’ll feel nice with all this snow blocking us in.” Julie was already bustling around to head inside.

“I’m not sure I brought one,” Hecate said dumbly. 

“That’s all right, just wear your knickers.”

“My… I beg your pardon?” This was definitely sounding like more than the kiss she’d signed up for.

Julie rolled her eyes. “Oh come on, we’re both women here, and there’s no difference between that and a bikini when it comes down to it. You work on that while I move Millie into bed.”

“You wish to go for a bath together?” Hecate blinked.

“Forget the bath thing, that was a bad choice of words to explain this. It’s more like a swimming pool, only smaller, and it’s warm. You in or out, Hardbroom?”

“I suppose I can transfigure something into more suitable swim attire,” Hecate agreed hesitantly. 

“Good, then come on, hurry up. I’m freezing out here and that hot water sounds amazing.”

Hecate followed Julie inside, quietly so as not to awaken Mildred. She looked so peaceful sleeping there in front of the yule fire, curled around her book. Without thinking, Hecate carefully extracted the book from her limp hands and closed it, setting it aside on the coffee table. 

“You’re good with her, you know,” Julie whispered.

Hecate startled and began to move away, feeling like an intruder, but Julie’s hand on her arm held her in place. “She’s so innocent like this, you’d hardly think she’s the same kid scheming and blowing up your lab,” Julie teased quietly. 

“Quite so.”

“It’s a shame to wake her up, but she’s gotten too big for me to carry her anymore,” Julie said.

“I can transfer her, if you’d like?”

Julie sighed with relief. “Would you? Thanks. Just stick her in my bed, she’ll be fine sleeping in her clothes for the night.”

Hecate did as requested, trying very hard not to focus too much on her destination. She’d had more than enough mortification surrounding Julie Hubble’s bed for one day.

“All right, time to change, meet you out there,” Julie said, removing her hand and heading off to get changed. Hecate transferred to her own rooms, feeling the panic set in now that she was alone.

They were taking a bath together, only apparently not a bath, and she needed appropriate attire for said not-bath, which she would be taking with Julie, who she thought had almost kissed her and who—even worse—she had definitely been willing to almost kiss back. 

Hecate needed to breathe.

She rummaged through the drawers where she had carefully placed the small amount of clothing she brought with her. There was admittedly not much that would do, but she was a talented witch and could arrange very little into quite a bit when properly inspired.

She pulled out a long-sleeved purple silk sleep shirt and spread it out on the bed before her. A few adjustments here and there… in the end she had something almost appropriate. It covered her rear end modestly enough, though regrettably her legs were still on display. The fabric ran up her torso and stopped a few inches below her collarbones, where it rounded off into a halter neck. In a spur of the moment decision, Hecate decided to let the fabric dip down in the back just a little lower than she’d usually dare.

Examining herself in the mirror, it wasn’t an altogether travesty. The material wasn’t exactly right, though she’d transformed it into something much closer to water-appropriate than it was before, but the rest didn’t look terrible. She glanced at her hair and considered it. She thought of Julie’s earlier words, and nearly put it down, but it would get tangled in the water. Instead she loosened it slightly, hoping it looked a little closer to relaxed, but left it up. 

Now to get outside.

The water might be warm, but the air would not be. She wrapped herself in her thick black robe to ward off the chill and sighed, looking around for anything else she might need. A towel would be useful, she supposed, but she could dry herself much more effectively. Hecate began to fiddle with the items on her desk, not wanting to rush out too quickly.

She was really doing this. She was really about to get in a hot tub with Julie Hubble.

Hecate caught sight of her list from earlier. All the reasons she should not be doing this very thing, written out before her in her own hand. It wasn’t too late to back out, say she’d found nothing suitable and go to sleep.

Perhaps it was the late hour, or the yuletide spirit had infested her too entirely, but Hecate didn’t want to avoid Julie tonight. She didn’t know what she wanted, exactly, but she had come this far in getting ready, so she knew she didn’t want to back out.

With a sigh, Hecate lifted up the list and looked it over once more. It seemed small—only four little things on a big sheet of paper. 

She’d overcome more than four little things before.

Hecate dropped the list into the bin beside her desk. She didn’t need a list to tell her what to do.

And with that thought, before she could change her mind and cling to it again, she transferred herself outside.

Julie was already waiting beside the hot tub in her own robe, dipping her arm in under the cover and frowning. “We should’ve started this up ages ago. I wasn’t thinking about how long it would take to get warm with all this snow around.”

“Perhaps I could help it along?” Hecate suggested, stepping forward to examine it.

“Oh could you? That’d be lovely.” 

Julie held the cover up while Hecate rolled up her left sleeve and dipped her hand inside. The water was lukewarm, clearly having been hard at work since they left it, but it would be ages before it reached a bearable temperature. She muttered a few words, letting the water heat with her magic until steam was rising and it felt good. “Is that acceptable?”

Julie splashed her own hand in alongside Hecate’s and hissed. “Oh, that’s wonderful. Thanks. Now here, help me get this off.” Together they shoved the heavy cover off the other side, sliding it over into a bank of snow. Julie flipped a switch and the lights came on, bathing the area in a soft glow of the combined porchlights and fairy lights strung around the hot tub area.

It was all much more inviting than Hecate had anticipated.

“That’s that, then, time to get in.” And with what Hecate considered very little warning to prepare herself, Julie Hubble de-robbed. She flung the fluffy blue monstrosity over a mostly cleared part of the deck railing and yelped as the cold air touched her skin—and what a bit of skin it was.

Hecate’s jaw dropped as she took in the sight of Julie in a little black bikini. 

The tiny freckles extended much beyond her cheeks, and Hecate had to pull in all her control to avoid memorizing the path of them across her sun-kissed skin. She held her own robe around herself more tightly, watching as Julie hopped out of her shoes and scurried across the few steps of deck to get to the water, yelping as she went.

She watched further still as Julie lowered herself into the water, hissing as the warmth scalded her chilled skin. “Oh, that’s perfect.” Julie settled down into a corner seat and looked over at Hecate with a raised brow. “Are you planning to stand there gawking all night, or are you getting in?”

Hecate flinched into action, embarrassed at having been caught. She placed her robe beside Julie’s, refusing to look up and see her reaction even as the cold stung her pale skin. Carefully, Hecate endured the chill as she made her way to the water and sunk herself inside. It was warm—almost too warm—but the air was biting and the snow still falling softly around them. 

The perfect juxtaposition.

“You made that swimsuit?” Julie asked, sounding stunned.

Hecate boldly took the seat in the corner adjacent to her.

“More or less. I made some adjustments to a sleep shirt.”

“It looks nice,” Julie said, eyes looking down into the water as though she could see it all. Hecate shifted uncomfortably.

The silence from before fell between them again, and Hecate didn’t know how to break it. Julie, it seemed, was having the same idea.

“I should have grabbed a bottle of wine from the kitchen. I suppose I could run in and get it, but it’s so cold…”

Hecate didn’t wait for her to finish, instead transferring a bottle right into her hands above the water. “Will this one do?” she asked, holding out the chardonnay. 

“Perfect! Oh, I love watching you do that. Millie tries to show me little spells, and it’s right impressive, but with you it’s like watching an art form.”

Hecate blushed and distracted herself with opening the bottle. “Oh, I forgot glasses,” she said, frowning. Two popped up beside them a second later, much to Julie’s delight, and she continued the show by magically moving the bottle to fill them. She replaced the bottle on the edge of the hot tub and held out one of the glasses for Julie to take.

“For the lady,” she teased, feeling emboldened by Julie’s reaction to her magic.

“Thank you.” Julie’s fingers brushed against her own when she met her hand to take the glass, and she removed them just a little too slowly for Hecate to take as a mistake.

Well then.

She took a long sip of her own, emptying a third of the glass in one go. Hecate was never much of a drinker, but tonight she felt it couldn’t hurt. Tonight, the air smelled liked change, and it set her nerves on fire.

“I underestimated you, you know,” Julie said thoughtfully after a beat.

“Oh?” 

“I was worried about us all being trapped together. I can handle myself, but I wasn’t sure how you’d be with Millie. She tries so hard to impress you sometimes, I couldn’t stand the thought of seeing her let down by something you said to her,” Julie admitted.

It was a sharp jab, to be sure, but not one Hecate felt was unwarranted. 

“I’m sure my reputation has not helped matters. I can’t blame you entirely for not trusting me.”

“No, it bloody well hasn’t,” Julie snorted. “But still, here this week, you’ve been nothing but kind to her. Made her year, I have no doubt. So I want to apologize. I know I wasn’t a bed of roses when you popped up unexpectedly. And I want to thank you for proving me wrong.”

Hecate could feel tears welling up in her eyes, and she swallowed them back. Now was not the time for them. She set her wine down, half empty. It was much too hot in this tub.

“You were… as you should have been expected to be. I know I’m not often considered a friendly face.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You want to put on a tough act to keep the kids in line, that’s fair enough, even if I might not agree with it. But as far as the Hubbles are concerned, your face is more than friendly, and you’re welcome any time.”

“I… thank you,” Hecate said, feeling at a loss for words. “And if I have done anything to cause you to have thought less of me in the start, I too apologize. No, not if. I know I have. This week has shown me many things I should think on in the future.”

Julie reached over and patted her on the shoulder. “I appreciate that. Now, enough of this soppy talk for one night. We’ve got a bottle of wine, an open sky of stars and snow, and Millie’s knocked out asleep. I think we can come up with something a little more fun.”

“What did you have in mind?” Hecate asked wearily. 

In response, Julie slid closer. There was a center seat between them, and she took it over, their knees bumping together as one of the jets forced them aside. 

“How about a game of truth or dare?” Julie asked saucily.

Hecate frowned. “What is that?”

“Oh, don’t play coy with me, Hecate. Your lot might have magical schools, but all little girls are the same when it comes to the games they play.”

“I may have seen it once or twice, usually ending in some magical disaster or someone’s tears.”

Julie chuckled. “Well we’re adults, I think we can handle ourselves a little better than that.”

“Very well.” It seemed like a truly atrocious idea, but Julie’s eyes were swimming in mirth, and they were so close it made her own head spin in response. She licked her lips.

“I’ll go first, show you how it’s done. Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you. And if you really don’t want to answer or do something, you can ask for a different prompt. I’m not out to induce any tears,” Julie teased.

“That sounds agreeable.”

“All right, then. Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Hecate decided.

“Why’d you become a teacher?”

Hecate reached over and emptied the rest of her wine glass in one bitter swig. If that was Julie’s idea of an easy question—which she supposed to most, it would be—she was going to need reinforcements. She considered lying. The blonde would never know the difference. But it felt like cheating, and Hecate Hardbroom did not believe in shortcuts.

“I’m sure you’re expecting some sort of answer like, I wanted to inspire the future witches of Britain, but that wouldn’t be entirely truthful when it comes to my motives for joining Cackle’s. I had the _honor_ of studying under a very gifted, very severe woman named Mistress Broomhead. She was strict and very cruel, though I didn’t see it at the time. I felt lonely. I had lost my only real friend, my mother had passed away, and my father had retreated into his books. In her way, I think she cared for me—at least, as much as she was capable. So I clung to that, and for years I put up with her demands and abuse, until I was nearly drowning in myself trying to keep her happy. That was when Ada Cackle found me,” Hecate said, swallowing and smiling at the reminder of her dearest friend. “She was young herself, still in training to take over as headmistress of Cackle’s one day. She convinced me to break away from Broomhead’s control, to come take up a post teaching potions. I was more than qualified by that point, having co-authored several books and engineered breakthrough potions with Miss Broomhead by my side. I had never considered myself teaching material, but Ada was kind to me, and I was grasping at anything to keep myself afloat. I couldn’t have done it without her. And in the end, I discovered I was rather fond of the job, so it all worked out for the best. Now I can’t imagine my life without Cackle’s.”

She finished her story and looked over at Julie expectantly, wondering if the explanation had been satisfactory enough. She was surprised to be met with two tearful eyes carefully boring into her.

“I don’t even know what to say. So much for an easy question,” Julie snorted somewhat sadly. “But I appreciate you trusting me with that.”

“I didn’t have to answer,” Hecate reminded her.

“Right.”

“But I did.”

“You did,” Julie echoed, strangely reminding her of their conversation from earlier.

Hecate cleared her throat and leaned slightly back. “My turn, is it? Truth or dare?”

Julie blushed and cleared her throat, moving to refill her glass of wine. “Truth, I guess. Seems only fair after that confession.”

There were many things Hecate wanted to know about Julie Hubble, and exactly all of them felt nowhere near her business to ask. “How do you like your tea?”

Julie leveled her with a glare and jokingly splashed a little of the water at her. “Oh, come on, now. No need to be shy. Ask me what you really want to know. I can always say no, remember?”

“Very well then. Do you ever wish you had the magic that should have been yours?”

Julie hummed for a moment, contemplating her wine a little too deeply, but eventually she set it aside and looked up at the sky. “I’d be lying if I said I never wondered what it would have been like. I mean, I see Millie fly off and you just pop around, and I think it looks like a lot of fun I’ve missed out on, but I don’t think I wish things had been any different. I mean, if I’d grown up in your world, I might not have had Mildred, and I’d probably be quite a different Julie.” She wrinkled up her nose in thought. “No magic is worth missing out on all that, is it?”

“No, it is most definitely not,” Hecate confirmed firmly. 

“My turn,” Julie sing-songed. The wine was certainly beginning to loosen their lips. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Hecate chose again, after a moment of hesitation.

“When were you last in love?”

The question caught Hecate off guard. All the juicy things Julie could have asked about the magical world and Cackle’s, and she went with something that barely even had an answer. In fact, Hecate had to stop and really consider it.

“If it’s too much you can—“

“No, I will answer,” Hecate said, waving her away. “I just needed to think about it. Truthfully, not since I was a young girl, I suppose. Pippa and I… we… I think that I loved her as much as I could at that age, but it wasn’t reciprocated. Or if it was, I didn’t stay to find out. I went running from her arms without an explanation and landed in Mistress Broomhead’s. There hasn’t been anyone since—not seriously at least. A dalliance here and there.” Hecate waved it off and reached to refill her own glass of wine.

“I’m sorry.”

Hecate flinched. “There is no need to feel sorry for me. I have my place in life with my girls and the school, and that in its own way has been enough.”

“I don’t mean to throw pity at you, I just think it’s a shame. Everyone deserves love if they want it,” Julie said, swaying slightly closer.

“Including you,” Hecate pointed out, referring to their earlier conversation on Julie’s lack of a dating life since Mildred.

“Yeah, well,” Julie sniffed, “that’s different.”

“Why is it different?” Hecate asked.

“Hey, no questions out of turn,” Julie reminded her with a chortle. Hecate glanced at the bottle, surprised to see it nearly emptied. How long had they been at this?

“Very well. Truth or dare?”

Julie pretended to think, so Hecate twisted her fingers and summoned a loose snowball to clunk her on the head. Julie let out a shriek, followed by more laughter.

“Oh, that actually feels really nice with all this heat!” she exclaimed.

“Does it?”

“See!” Julie reached up and collected as much of the snow from her curls as she could, tossing it in Hecate’s face.

She sputtered, surprised, but not angered by the tactic. Hecate’s breath rose up in her throat, threatening to spill out in a shriek, but the humor of the situation—and perhaps the wine—took her by a stronghold, and instead the noise she made was much closer to that of a snort.

This highly undignified sound escaping Hecate only further rendered Julie useless as the laughter took hold of her, both of them with bits of snow quickly melting down their hair and faces, not a care in the world. Hecate couldn’t help herself from following Julie’s laughter with more of her own, embarrassed by the unladylike snort and impressed with herself for it all at once.

Hecate’s hand slipped under the water and found purchase atop Julie’s knee—an attempt to hold herself up as she calmed down. Julie smiled up at her, wiping a tear from just beneath her eye, and notably did not move her leg away even as she straightened up.

Hecate, in a moment of daring, left her hand as well.

“Okay okay, truth,” Julie said, trying to pull herself back under control.

“Why is it different?” Hecate pressed.

“Why is what different?”

“Why can’t you have love too?” It made her heart hurt to think of Julie feeling she was somehow undeserving of love. She was so beautiful, and funny. Hecate couldn’t ever remember laughing so hard, so she definitely had to be funny, she was certain of that. She deserved someone so good, so wonderful, she just wanted to squeeze her until she understood.

Julie sighed just a little sloppily and leaned back against the wall of the hot tub. The movement jostled Hecate’s hand off her leg, so she pulled it out of the water, feeling still so very overheated. With nowhere to put it, unless she wished to wave it around in the air like a loon, Hecate carefully slid it up along the side behind where Julie leaned.

“It just doesn’t seem right to do to Millie.”

“That’s a bad excuse,” Hecate said, pointing at her and swaying a little with the effort and the wine. “Mildred is away at school half the year—I should know, it’s my lab she’s always blowing up.” She paused to sigh dramatically, lamenting her poor lab. “And besides, she clearly thinks otherwise. Just look what she’s been doing this week with us.”

“That’s true, she does seem to want us together at any rate,” Julie said thoughtfully. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right.”

“All right missy, before you get any smugger, it’s your turn then.”

Hecate began to form the word truth, but something held her tongue. She felt—not drunken exactly, but looser, like the carefully construction barrier usually holding her in place had been removed. She met Julie’s eyes questioningly. They were so close, it would be so easy if Julie only said the words. “Dare,” she chose instead.

She implored Julie with her eyes to understand what she wanted.

“Kiss me,” Julie dared in response.

So Hecate did.

And she did again, Julie kissing her back, all thoughts of lists and reasons this was a horrible idea long gone. Julie tasted like wine, and her lips were soft, her kiss an essence of magic all on its own. It filled her up entirely.

Until Hecate felt so full, she was ready to burst at the seams, and she pulled away suddenly feeling much closer to sober.

“I… uhm…”

“Wow,” Julie said for her, breathing out deeply.

“Is this a good ‘wow?’”

“Very good,” Julie added, breaking into a grin that ran from cheek to cheek. “A ‘wouldn’t mind doing that again’ wow.”

_Again._ Because it had already happened once. She’d let her guard slip, let Julie into her head. They were trapped here by the magic and giving into its whims, that’s all, she was—no. Hecate knew she didn’t believe that. The kiss had been entirely her own decision. Well, hers and Julie’s. Not even the wine had mattered truly. She had known from the moment they stood on the deck, unable to say another word for fear of exploding with too many all at once, that the evening would lead to this, and she had let it.

“I think I would like the same,” Hecate said finally, allowing herself a small smile. “However, maybe not tonight. I think it would be best to think things over with a clear head.”

Could they really do this? Did Julie even want to do this? Did she? So many questions were swarming Hecate now that the kiss had finished. It had been one thing to decide to kiss Julie, but it was an entirely bigger thing to realize the implications of it. Maybe they were only having fun, maybe it didn’t have to mean anything, and Hecate was just too inexperienced to know any better.

Julie smiled warmly at her and put a wet palm on Hecate’s shoulder, silencing the thoughts that wouldn’t slow down in her head. “That’s okay. Take as long as you want. I know I could use some myself. It’s been quite a while since I’ve been kissed like that.”

Hecate blushed.

“Shall we head inside then? Call it a night?”

“I’m getting a bit warm, so I think that’s a good idea. Come on, help me out and I’ll help you.”

Julie stood and wrapped herself, still sopping wet, in her robe. Hecate moved towards the steps to join her, but was stopped with an outstretched hand. “Hang on!” Julie picked up Hecate’s robe and held it out in one hand, holding up her other to clasp Hecate’s and help her down the slippery steps. Her toes burned against the snow, but Julie’s smile was so warm, and she wrapped Hecate in the robe as soon as she was safely on the ground.

“There, better?” Julie asked, standing in front of Hecate and straightening her lapels. It was unnecessary, but she didn’t bat her away.

“Perhaps…”

“One more couldn’t hurt?”

Hecate looked down, laughing. Her face was beginning to hurt from all the laughter. Julie’s hand found her chin and carefully lifted it up. They were only inches away, eyes seeking one another for permission. Finding it, Hecate leaning in and sealed it with a kiss. It was gentle, yet full of yearning, and when she finally had to pull away or risk hypothermia, it was with great difficulty.

“The trash,” Julie mumbled as she tussled her hair, stepping regrettably out of Hecate’s space to begin closing off the hot tub.

“Pardon?”

“Oh, I was just thinking to myself. Supposedly the trash is collected tomorrow—if they can get anywhere in all this snow, that is. I should probably get it ready just in case,” Julie explained.

“Go ahead, I’ll finished closing this up. It’s just the cover left?”

“If you’re sure you can get it?”

Hecate held up a hand and wriggled her fingers.

“Right, magic. See you in the morning, then.”

“Goodnight, Julie.”

“Sweet dreams, Hecate.”

Julie hadn’t intended to go into Hecate’s bedroom uninvited, but as she passed the door, it occurred to her that she probably had a trashcan to be emptied. It would be rude to leave her with it, she reasoned, and slipped inside without much more thought to it. In and out, she wouldn’t even pause to look around. Of course, she also hadn’t intended for her eye to catch on a sheet of paper at the very top of the bin with her name scribbled across the top, and once she’d seen it, she couldn’t very well look away.


End file.
